


50 Kisses

by jadehqknb



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Kisses, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-22
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2019-11-27 13:01:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 37
Words: 24,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18194921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jadehqknb/pseuds/jadehqknb
Summary: I took this lovely prompt list and decided to challenge myself to write50 Kissesfor KuroDai. Depending on the prompt, they will range from sweet, to spicy, to maybe even a little sad. I hope you enjoy!





	1. Good morning

Daichi is an early bird, no pun intended. Since he was a child, his body's been in tune with the sun and just as reliable and warm. Except for special circumstances, he doesn’t need an alarm, waking up near the crack of dawn. Even the sun stays tucked away longer than him when it’s winter.

To some, it would feel a burden. Daichi likes it. For years, it meant he got more out of his day and while that still remains true, the 'more' he looks for has changed.

The more includes getting to watch Kuroo sleep, uninterrupted by smirks and giggles or whatever other nonsense his adorably dorky yet somehow sexy boyfriend throws at him.

It means he gets to wake him up, slowly coaxing him into the day with sweet kisses all over his face.

His nose scrunches up—so cute—when Daichi kisses the tip of it.

He mumbles Daichi’s name when he kisses his cheek and Daichi wonders what he’s dreaming of, whether he can help some of them come true.

Two soft pecks—one to each eyelid—has them fluttering open and Kuroo looks at him through bleary eyes. He always looks confused at first, as if he questions why Daichi’s with him.

Silly dope, as though Daichi wants to be anywhere else.

“Good morning,” Daichi says and leans forward to finally kiss Kuroo’s lips. It’s soft and gentle, and Kuroo takes just a few seconds to gain coherence enough to kiss back but that’s fine; Daichi doesn’t mind leading from time to time.

Daichi may wake early but with Kuroo, he’s not so to quick to rise.

 


	2. Goodnight

“You know, contrary to the rumors, you aren’t a nocturnal creature,” Daichi says, leaning over the back of the couch. He plants a kiss to Kuroo’s cheek. “Come to bed, it’s late.”

Kuroo nods but his eyes remained fixed on the book in his hands. “I will love, just gotta finish this chapter.”

Daichi sighs, his breath tickling the side of Kuroo’s neck. “Fine, but why don’t you finish it in bed?”

“Miss me that much, huh?”

Daichi ruffles his hair. “Nope, I just know if I leave you to your own devices one chapter will turn into two and that will turn into just jotting a ‘few’ notes down, which leads to you up almost all night.” He pivots and heads to their bedroom, calling over his shoulder, “Come on kitty cat.”

Kuroo pouts, tempted to stay put just out of spite. Maybe he is part feline. Shaking his head, he stands and flicks the side table lamp off plunging the room into full darkness.

By the time he reaches the bedroom, Daichi is shirtless and under the covers. He gives a satisfied smile when he sees Kuroo and pats the space next to him coaxingly.

“Ok, ok,” Kuroo mutters but there’s fondness in his eyes. He can’t help but be happy when Daichi wants to take care of him.

He changes into pajama bottoms and climbs into bed, propping up his pillow to settle against the headboard and continue reading.

A soft smile graces his lips when Daichi snuggles against him, head on his shoulder and eyes undoubtedly closed but his hand traces idle patterns on Kuroo’s leg under the blanket. It’s soft and gentle and sweet and Kuroo falls just a little more in love.

He turns his head and lays a gentle kiss on Daichi’s crown.

Kuroo wonders if this was his real motivation getting him to read in bed. Daichi can be just as—if not more—cunning than himself. After a while, Daichi is fighting to keep his head in place on Kuroo’s shoulder.

“Lie down silly, I’ll be done soon,” Kuroo says giving him another kiss.

Daichi yawns. “You said one chapter, you finished it. It’s bed time.”

Kuroo’s surprised he was paying attention, sure as anything that he was already half asleep.

“Alright, you win.”

“I always win,” Daichi says but the smugness is downgraded thanks to another yawn.

“Uh huh, sure,” Kuroo says with a grin. Daichi settles down on his side, trusting that Kuroo will follow through and set the book down, turn out the light and snuggle up.

He does just that, laying another kiss to Daichi’s cheek. “Good night my love.”


	3. Goodbye

Kuroo presses Daichi to the wall, his long lean body doing a surprisingly good job of shielding him from any prying eyes. Not that there are many on the platform this time of night. Daichi always tries to take the last train, squeezing every last minute they have together for all they’re worth. 

“Kuroo… I have… I have to go,” Daichi sighs between soft kisses. Kuroo’s cupping his face, nuzzling his nose and pressing their lips together at random intervals. Occasionally he peppers his whole face, but it’s slow with purpose.

“Train’s not even here yet, Sa’mura, now be quiet,” Kuroo whispers, slotting their lips together for a longer, deeper kiss.  

Daichi’s fingers grip Kuroo’s shirt, bunching the fabric. Against his knuckles he can feel Kuroo’s heartbeat. It’s steady and strong, just like him. He’s so much stronger than Daichi. Every time they have to say goodbye it hurts. He knows it hurts them both but Kuroo always sends him away with his lips burning and a smile and wave.  

He pulls him closer, as though some how he knows the minutes are turning to seconds before he has to let go and send Daichi back to Miyagi.

They break for air, but stay close, their breaths mingling. Daichi’s eyelids flutter open to find Kuroo staring at his face so intently he immediately flushes.  

“What?” he snaps in surprise but he lets Kuroo hold his face, nuzzles into the feel of his thumb grazing over his cheek.  

Kuroo shakes his head slowly back and forth. “I just…love you, so much. I miss you every moment you’re not here.”  

Daichi’s face darkens further and he averts his eyes. There’s a little pout on his lips, a mixture of embarrassment and sadness because he misses Kuroo too but his tongue never seems able to form the right words. Kuroo used to be that way, but now that he knows his feelings are returned, it’s as though he’s become some kind of damn poet.  

“I… I miss you too, Tetsu,” Daichi says and it feels stupid because he’s right in front of him but it’s true. Daichi misses him already and he hasn’t even left yet.  

A press of lips to his forehead has him closing his eyes. “Don’t be sad, we’ll be together again soon.”  

“Hey, you’re the one who started it,” Daichi huffs.  

Kuroo sniggers, but nods, gently guiding Daichi’s face up and his eyes back to his. He opens his mouth but the sound of the arrival announcement cuts him off.  

Daichi shuffles away from the wall, knowing if he doesn’t start moving now, he won’t make the train. The damn thing barely slows down for people to board and it wouldn’t be the first time he missed it.  

Kuroo’s hand grasps his wrist, his wiry frame able to halt Daichi’s broader one. Daichi looks up at him. He finally voices how he really feels; “I hate saying goodbye to you.” 

Kuroo draws close again, taking every last second he has. He presses another kiss to Daichi’s lips, then whispers against them, “Then don’t. Just say… see you later.”  

 Daichi looks up at him, managing a small smile. He leans up, pecks Kuroo’s cheek and whispers in his ear, “I’ll see you later… in my dreams.” Then he rushes away, his cheeks blazing. He doesn’t look back to see that Kuroo’s are too.   


	4. Where it hurts

“I can’t believe you did that! You could have been killed!”  

“Kuroo, calm down, it’s not my first fight. Contrary to popular belief, I’m not some straight-laced, goody-two-shoes!” Daichi snaps, stomping down the street away from his boyfriend.  

Kuroo lets out a growl of frustration, following after him, his eyes narrowed. “That’s not the point, Sawamura! You can’t just throw a punch at just anyone around here, use your head!” 

“Oh, so I’m stupid now, huh? Just the dumb-ass, country bumpkin!” 

“Damn it, that isn’t what I said, and will you stop for just one second,” Kuroo snaps, grabbing Daichi’s hand and pulling. He releases it a split second later when his boyfriend winces. “Shit, I’m sorry, what—” 

“It’s nothing,” Daichi insists but his face is still contorted in pain.  

“Daichi… let me see,” Kuroo says, tone firm but softer, his open hand still extended.

After a moment’s hesitation, Daichi complies, settling his hand into Kuroo's. His brow furrows when he sees the harsh red marks on his knuckles. “What the hell—” 

“Well, teeth are sharp,” Daichi says quickly, moving to take his hand back but Kuroo’s fingers wrap around it just tight enough to hold him in place.  

Kuroo's eyes haven’t left the wounds, just staring at them. Finally, he looks at Daichi’s face and his expression is a mixture of anger and fear. “Please. Please do not do that again,” he says quietly and the earnest way in which he asks punctures Daichi’s righteous indignation.  

He nods. “I… I’m sorry—“

Kuroo shakes his head, drawing Daichi’s hand to his lips and laying gentle kisses to each fight bite. “Don’t apologize, you were just… being you. Strong, brave and protective. And, truth be told, it was a little hot seeing you reckless like that.”   

Daichi yanks his hand away, cradling it against his chest, flustered and embarrassed. “I just… didn’t want them thinking it was ok to talk about you like that,” he mumbles.  

Kuroo steps closer, sliding his hand over Daichi’s back until he feels him relax his still defensive stance. “Come on, let’s go back to my apartment, get some disinfectant and ice on those. You’re lucky you didn’t break any bones,” he says. 

“The only bones I broke were on the second guy's nose,” Daichi snips and Kuroo snickers.  


	5. Where It Doesn’t Hurt

“You know, it probably wasn’t the best idea to go paint-balling, those guys are relentless,” Daichi chuckles as Kuroo groans rolling over in bed.

“But I had to! I can’t let them down!” Kuroo laments dramatically.

“That implies they rely on you.”

“Rude, you’re supposed to be on my side!”

Daichi rolls his eyes, leaning down to give Kuroo’s shoulder a kiss. “Ouch! No touchy!” he exclaims, trying to shift away and hissing in pain again.

Daichi frowns, pulling his shirt up. “Shit, don’t they give you protective gear?” he asks, eyeing the mottle of yellow and red skin.

Kuroo shrugs. “I mean, we had knee and elbow pads, cups—thank god—and face masks. Like, we wore coveralls but other than that, it’s just… don’t get hit.”

“Well, you did a shit job of that,” Daichi huffs, thumb tracing over a rather nasty looking bruise beginning to form.

“Damn it, I said no touching! You know it really hurts when I don’t want _you_ to touch me,” Kuroo says through a whine.

“You are such a baby,” Daichi chides.

“Am not! You try getting pegged with pellets all day!’

“Um, no thanks. That’s why I didn’t go.”

“And here I thought it was because you were scared to be surrounded by cats again,” Kuroo teases through a grin.

“Oh my god, really? Besides, my crows would kick your little kitties’ asses any day.”

Kuroo sits up, pain seemingly forgotten. “Is that so? Prove it. Next month, cats versus crows, paintball guns at high noon.”

Daichi gives him a level stare then leans forward to peck his lips. “Hmmm… somewhere it doesn’t hurt to touch you… lucky me…” Then he kisses him again. And again. And again.

“...are you trying to distract me from our faux death match?”

“Shut up and kiss me, you idiot.”

“Yes, dear.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“...yes, de--ouch! Daichi! I bruise easily, ya know!”


	6. On a falling tear

Daichi stands in a bit of a daze, staring at the sky. A tiny part of him can’t believe they did it. They really did it. They’re going to Tokyo. Karasuno is going to Nationals. One step closer to the dream of the battle at the garbage dump. Just like he and Kuroo promised. To their coaches. To themselves. To each other.

“Big moment, must be a nice weight to lose, despite those broad shoulders.”

Daichi whirls around, his eyes wide. “Kuroo!” he exclaims, hurrying to where the sneaky cat is lurking in the shadows. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Nice to see you too, S’amura,” he drawls, pushing away from the wall. “Where else would I be when my boyfriend is playing in such a crucial game?”

Daichi plans to blame the flush on his face to all that exertion on the court.

They stare at each other for a few moments more before Kuroo steps closer, raising one hand to trace over Daichi’s cheek where the bruise from his run in with Tanaka’s shoulder a few weeks ago still resides. “You did it, love,” he says softly.

Daichi shakes his head. “It wasn’t just me. It was… everyone. It was you, too. I never thought I’d be so thankful for your provocation skills. Tsukishima… he saved us.”

Kuroo hums, “That may be true. But it was your leadership that kept them steady. You’re a good captain, Sawamura. Don’t down play that.”

And even though he’s already cried, Daichi feels more tears brewing. He doesn’t even really know why, attributing them to sheer exhaustion at this point. He closes his eyes to try to stem them but the action merely lets one squeeze free.

His eyes fly back open when he feels the press of Kuroo’s lips to his cheek. His face stays right in front of his. “How can you look so pretty even when you cry?” he asks with a grin.

Daichi frowns, pushing him away with a huff and Kuroo laughs, tugging him back into his arms.


	7. To shut them up

“Have you been working out more?”

The question catches Daichi off guard. He looks up at Kuroo as they make their way from the showers to their sleeping quarters.

Before he can formulate a reply, Kuroo pokes at one of his pecs.

Daichi smacks his hand away. “Stop that! What is wrong with you?”

“Nothing, just admiring the good work you’ve been doing.”

“Kuroo!”

“What? Have you seen yourself, Sawamura? You can’t expect to leave your shirt off and not have me stare at the rippling magnificence that is your chest. And your arms for that matter.” He squeezes a bicep to illustrate his point, or just to grope Daichi more likely as not.

Daichi’s never been so glad to hear a ruckus down the hall. He turns towards the sound, falling into captain mode, when Kuroo jerks him by the arm he still holds into a dark alcove.

“What the hell Kuroo! I have to go—“

“Ushijima can handle them,” Kuroo says, crowding in. “Now, where was I? Oh yes, lavishing praise on you.”

“Kuroo, I swear to god, I will Suga-chop you so hard,” Daichi says, tugging his arm away.

He doesn’t get far though, Kuroo doing a damn kabedon on him pinning him to the wall. “Oh ho? What’s this? Big daddy crow can’t take a compliment or two? Well, you’re not a crow anymore I suppose. Speaking of daddy, you know you awoke _both_ my daddy and captain kinks, right?”

“Kuroo—“

“I mean, it’s not just your chest and arms. I could write sonnets about your thighs. And don’t get me started on that sweet ass of yours. Actually do, because it’s perfect. Just like a plump, juicy peach that I can’t wait—“

“Shut. Up.”

“Make me, Sawamu—“

Daichi yanks Kuroo down by the towel around his neck, kissing him until he can’t breathe properly.

When they part, Kuroo rasps, “You’re not helping your ‘get Kuroo to shut up’ campaign here.”

Daichi pulls him down again, winding his arms around his neck, bare chests touching; “Maybe not, but I like your moans better anyway.” Then he kisses him again.


	8. In Secret

_Second_ _floor_ , _last_ _door_ _on_ _the_ _left_. _9_ : _00_ , _don’t_ _be_ _late_.

Kuroo stares at the paper just shoved in his hand by one Sawamura Daichi as he passes him in the cafeteria. He looks after him but the damn crow just keeps walking without so much as a glance back. 

Hope blooms in Kuroo’s stomach but a second later it’s snuffed out by self doubt. Maybe Kuroo’s reading into this wrong. What if Sawamura just wants a quiet place to talk without risk of interruption? Maybe he gave similar notes to the other captains…

Kuroo looks around. When his eyes land on Bokuto, he feels a swell of hope. He slides in next to the boisterous owl, nearly earning a back hand to the face as Bokuto finishes his story.

“Oh hey Kuroo! You gotta stop sneaking up on people!” Bokuto exclaims slamming his palm on Kuroo’s back.

Kuroo ignores the pain in favor of asking his question in low tones; “Speaking of sneaking… you didn’t, uh, get a message from Sawamura, did you?”

Bokuto gives him a confused look. “Uh, no? Why? Did he give you a message? Oh! Is this like that one game… what’s it called… where you pass messages along and they get all messed up?” 

“Telephone?” Kuroo asks before he can think better of it.

“That’s it!” Bokuto cries out, earning some stares. Then his eyes become more focused. “Wait! You’re probably the first and need to pass it on! What’s the message? Who do I give it to next? Does it matter?” Bokuto is bouncing in his seat with excitement, completely overlooking the fact that if they _were_ playing the game (and really why would they), Kuroo would’ve just given him the message.

Kuroo can feel a burning on the back of his neck and he doesn’t need to turn around to know the source. But he does anyway. Sawamura is zeroed in on him, and he… doesn’t look happy.

Shit. 

Kuroo whirls back to Bokuto. “You know what? Never mind, my mistake. Forget I said anything.” Hurriedly he stands, making a hasty and much too public exit, ignoring Bokuto’s confused calls to come back. 

Great, he probably hurt his feelings on top of making a complete fool of himself because of course the message was only for him but his stupid brain just can’t stop overthinking and—

All thinking ceases when he’s yanked by the collar, shoved in a closet he didn’t even know existed and pushed up against the wall as the door slams—and locks—behind whoever has him in their clutches. 

“Don’t. Say. Anything.” 

“Oh my god, Sawamura, you nearly gave me a heart attack.”

A warm hand covers his mouth and Sawamura’s voice is in his ear and oh that’s a lot of muscle pressed up against Kuroo right now. “What did I say about speaking?” 

“Not to,” Kuroo mumbles, lips brushing over hot skin.

“Shhhhh… just be quiet.” 

Kuroo wants to listen, he really does, but his heart beat is so loud he’s sure it’s audible and it’s getting a little hard to breathe with Sawamura still covering his mouth and standing so close, surrounding him with body heat and… is that cologne?

Kuroo wants to get a better whiff but forces himself to stay still. Then it occurs to him; what are they being quiet for?

The answer to his question comes in the form a calamitous voice outside the door.

“Where did they go? I thought Sawamura-san headed this way after Kuroo-san?!” 

Lev, of course, taking any excuse to not be doing receives. 

“Let’s try upstairs, there’s only so many places they could be,” Yaku—that’s a surprise—says next. 

The sounds of steps and speech retreat and finally Sawamura retracts his hand. 

“Why are they looking for us?” Kuroo asks lowly.

He detects the hint of a smirk on Sawamura’s face as he says, “They’re cats, what else?” 

Kuroo gives a huff of bemusement. “Next, question… why are we hiding in the closet?” He’s got his night vision going now and can see Sawamura’s face a little more clearly.

“I just figured it was about time we stopped dancing around,” Sawamura answers easily.

Well, that’s unexpected. “And you… oh… oh shit… I fucked up bad, didn’t I?” Kuroo asks, palm slapping over his forehead and running down his face.

Sawamura chuckles reaching up to take his hand in his. “I’ll admit, I was pretty surprised that someone as clever as you could be so stupid—“

“Hey now—”

“But, I am nothing if not determined. I mean, just look at the team I’m leading,” Sawamura says with a laugh.

“And so you followed me and drug me into a closet…”

Kuroo feels Sawamura lean in again, his face inching closer to his own. “Just because I’m determined, doesn’t mean I want to make a public confession,” he says, warm breath ghosting over Kuroo’s lips.

“Oh, um, yeah, that’s probably smart,” Kuroo says choking on his words.

Suddenly all that warmth disappears and Kuroo chases its loss, pressing Sawamura against the door so he can’t open it.

“Sawamura?” he asks perplexed.

“Was it smart because you’re planning on rejecting me? If it is, can you please just get it over with and let me out so I can go die of embarrassment in peace, please?”

Kuroo’s stomach drops. “What? No! Why… oh… damn it.” He takes Sawamura’s hands, squeezing tight. “I meant it was smart because I want to kiss you,” he admits quietly.

Sawamura seems to stop breathing, silence surrounding them in the small cramped space.

“Can I?” Kuroo asks next, moving one hand to Sawamura’s face.

“No,” Sawamura says, but his arms wrap around Kuroo’s neck regardless, “this is _my_ confession so I’m going to kiss _you_.”

And then he does.

  
 


	9. In Public

“Ok, this has gone on long enough,” Oikawa huffs, crossing one leg one over the other, fingers rotating the tea cup in his hands.

“No argument here, but what can we do?” Moniwa asks, darting quick glances to the subjects of their conversation.

Aone frowns. “It’s not our business,” he says steadily.

Oikawa gives him an unimpressed look. “If there’s one thing that is our business it’s to get those two,” he thumbs in the direction of where Kuroo and Sawamura are seated at another cafeteria table next to each other, “to admit they like each other. The sexual tension is driving me up the wall.”

Secretly, Aone wonders if that’s because Oikawa-san isn’t part of it directly. He’s an odd man like that.

“If only Suga-chan were here, he’d back me up,” Oikawa says through a sigh, settling his chin in his palm.

Moniwa opens his mouth to speak but all that comes out is a startled gasp and his eyes go very wide.

“What’s—“ but Oikawa gets no further than a squawk when he turns and sees Sawamura kissing Kuroo. Or maybe it’s Kuroo kissing Sawamura. Either way, there they are, lip-locked for all their small world to see.

A deep rumble snaps Oikawa out of his shock, his jaw dropping further when he finds the sound is Aone laughing.

“Guess they figured it out,” he says, then goes back to his lunch, happy for his vice captain and fellow middle blocker.


	10. Desperately

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *Pacific Rim AU*

Sawamura snaps closed the last buckle of his boot, standing and stretching. “There’s a storm coming.”

Kuroo casts a glance at him, but it’s Azumane who replies, “You’re such an old man, Dai.”  

Kuroo smirks at Sawamura’s indignant rebuttal, watching in silent suffering as they bicker and banter like the old married couple everyone accuses them of being despite their claims to the contrary. And Kuroo gets it, he does. Admitting out loud love of your copilot is like a curse around here. Like the Kaiju put an extra bounty on you or your lover’s head above the rest of humanity. Because it isn’t enough to keep obliterating the humans, their existence itself needs to be painful.  

“You in there?”  

Accompanying the question is the wrap of knuckles on his head and Kuroo looks up, finding Sawamura’s brown eyes full on him and the weight of his gaze feels both comforting and awful. He hates the dichotomy of it.

He pushes away the melancholy, needing to focus, to get ready to jive with Bo. His trademark smirk comes out to hide the grimace he feels forming. “Present and accounted for cap,” he says with a small salute.

Sawamura huffs, rolling his eyes. His hand reaches out, ruffling Kuroo’s hair. “Be careful out there. Don’t do anything stupid.”

Kuroo works to ignore the tingling left in the wake of Sawamura’s touch. “You mean like climbing into and plugging my consciousness into a walking nuclear hazard to go fight monsters?”

Sawamura laughs and the rich sound echoes off the metal lockers. “Sometimes I wonder if your jaeger works on the opposites attract factor,” he teases.

“Sunshine boy and grumpy cat,” Asahi puts in with a grin.  

Kuroo forces a smile. He stands and slams his locker closed, bumping Sawamura’s shoulder as he walks by him; “See you out there.”

He moves to go but a hand—warm and rough—grasps his wrist. He turns, finding Sawamura’s eyes on him again. He forces himself to look at him, to pay attention to whatever it is he has to say because with that look on his face it must be important. “Kuroo, I, uh…” Sawamura stops, running his tongue over his lips and Kuroo feels his neck warming. “Sorry 'bout that,” Sawamura continues and Kuroo swear hears a sigh behind him but ignores it. “We shouldn’t give you shit like that when you’re preparing."

Disappointment floods him but Kuroo manages a laugh. Gotta keep up appearances, after all, especially when Asahi is  _right there_. “Awww, don’t go soft on me now, S’mura. That’ll be the day I die.”

“Just be careful, Kuroo,” Sawamura calls as Kuroo heads for the exit.

“I’m always careful,” Kuroo replies and then he’s gone.  

* * *

Ok, so he wasn’t careful. Or at least that’s what everyone will say. But things don’t go according to plan sometimes, especially when dealing with monsters.

His whole body hurts and he should probably still be in the infirmary but he can’t sleep there and he doesn’t like drugs. So he’ll bear the pain and rest up in his own quarters. Bokuto has it worse anyway, though Kuroo overheard as he passed the nurses station that his copilot had finally woken up. Kuroo plans to go see him tomorrow.

He turns around to leave only to find Sawamura standing in the doorway looking fiercer than any Kaiju he’s ever faced. “Sawa—”

“You. Stupid. Bastard!” Sawamura surges across the room, grabs Kuroo’s collar and slams him into the locker wall.

Kuroo hisses against the impact but forgets all pain a second later when Sawamura smashes their mouths together. His hand releases his collar only to thread into Kuroo's hair, the other cupping the side of his face. His hands are rough and callous covered but so warm and strong. Sawamura slices his tongue along the seam of Kuroo’s lips and he opens to him easily, a low moan sounding that he isn’t sure is of pain or pleasure. Maybe it’s a little of both. Whichever it is, he doesn’t care, because Sawamura is pressing so tight to him there’s a possibility they’ll fuse.

They break apart for breath and when Sawamura looks up at him, his angry eyes are swimming in tears. “Don’t you _ever_ … do that again! You could have fucking died, Kuroo!”

Kuroo wants to argue that any of them could die at any moment with the jobs they have. That he did what needed to be done. That, despite the consequences, it _had_ worked. But he doesn’t. Instead, he wraps his arm around Sawamura’s waist and hauls him close again, his other hand lifting to cup his face. “I didn’t know you cared so much,” he whispers.

“Then you really are an idiot, because I’m pretty sure it’s obvious,” Sawamura replies.

Kuroo shakes his head. “I mean, the kiss is kind of a dead giveaway, but I always thought… you and Asahi—”

Sawamura cuts him off with a groan. “Are you and Bokuto fucking?”

The question completely catches him off guard. “No!” he exclaims, eyes wide.

“They why does everyone assume Asahi and I are?”

Kuroo’s mouth opens and closes a few times before he manages to get words to form. “I… well… you’re so close and… you’ve been friends since, what, middle school?”

“So what? So have you and Bokuto!” Sawamura snaps, pulling away and punching Kuroo’s shoulder.

“Ow! Hey, I’m injured here!’

“Yeah, and you should have stayed in the infirmary, you moron.”

“I can’t sleep there.”

Sawamura grabs his hand, pulling him towards the door. Kuroo opens his mouth to protest but snaps it shut again when Sawamura says, “You shouldn't be sleeping anyway, stupid. Fine, you'll stay with me. Gotta make sure you don’t die in your sleep from that concussion.”

Kuroo can’t help asking, “So, uh, what’s your plan to keep me awake then?”

Sawamura pauses, then spins on his heel, clamps his hand on the back of Kuroo’s neck and drags him into another heated kiss. They part with a wet pop, Sawamura saying over his lips, “I can think of a few things.”

He doesn’t have to drag Kuroo after that.

 


	11. In joy

Kuroo bounces on the balls of his feet. Six months. It’s been six months since the last time he saw him. The plastic around the bouquet in his hands crinkles when he tightens his grip as the arrival announcement for Daichi’s train sounds. 

The train pulls in seconds later, coming to a stop and the whoosh of the doors opening is a sound Kuroo will forever associate to one of the best moments of his life. 

“Tetsu!” 

He turns, face lighting up as Daichi—with two bag straps crossed over his chest and a suitcase in hand—comes rushing towards him through the mass of other travelers trying not to hit anyone with his burden. 

Kuroo has an easier time snaking through the crowd. As he gets closer, Daichi drops his bags, opens his arms and Kuroo launches into them, sacrificing some petals as the bouquet knocks into Daichi’s broad back. 

They hug tightly for a few moments before Kuroo pulls back just far enough to be able to reach Daichi’s lips and covers them with his own. It’s a little odd kissing while smiling so wide but neither care. All they can think about is that they are together. 

For good. 

Because now when Daichi comes to Tokyo, he’ll be coming  _ home _ . 


	12. In Grief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *Warning for implied death/dying*

“Tetsu!”

Kuroo, eyes closed, winces against the rather loud call of his name. His head throbs and he has the worst crick of his life in his neck.

He tries to speak but his tongue lies heavy in his mouth.

“Tetsu! Come on!”

_Just five more minutes_ he wants to say but can’t get the words out. He must be really zonked. And who the hell is calling him? There’s a ringing, white noise combo going on right now.

“Tetsurou open your eyes, damn it!”

Ah, Daichi, of course. Kuroo wonders idly what he’s done to warrant such a wake up call. Maybe he forgot to take out the trash. He’s always doing—or not doing—that it seems. It isn’t that he means to forget, not like he has selective memory. He legitimately forgets. Still, irritated as Daichi gets about that, he’s never yelled like this before.

At least not about trash duties.

“Please… please open your eyes…”

Kuroo’s brow furrows. Is… is Daichi, crying?

_No need to cry, sweetheart, I’ll take care of it._

Was that a thought or did he manage to talk?

When he finally manages to pry his eyelids open, Kuroo is confused. He’s outside, staring up at the sky. It’s a clear night, cold. The stars are brilliantly bright. He wants to tell Daichi to look up. Forget about trash and check out the gorgeous canopy above them.

“Tetsurou don’t you dare! Come on, just… just keep breathing… please!”

Keep breathing? Kuroo finally manages to turn his head—wow that was hard. Daichi is knelt on the ground, a nasty gash on his forehead and cuts on his hands. Kuroo frowns, tries to sit up and it’s then he notices; Daichi is kneeling beside _his_ body.

Well this can’t be good.

Kuroo finally gets himself moving. Everything hurts and he feels dizzy and sick. The effort to stand is too much so he drags himself towards the very unsettling scene of his boyfriend trying to wake him up. And oh the sight he makes. Kuroo winces, unsure how Daichi can stand to look at him like that. Shock? Sheer determination?

Daichi caresses his face and Kuroo hates that he can’t feel it. He loves those tender touches, ones Daichi only gives when it’s just them.

Just them… Kuroo looks around. They’re in the middle of nowhere. What the hell happened?

A pop and crackle some distance away catches his attention. His eyes go wide. How… how did Daichi survive? How did he (so far) survive? The wrangled burning mass isn’t recognizable as a car anymore.

“Tetsu… Tetsu please, come back. Come back to me. Don’t… don’t leave me.”

Kuroo turns back to see Daichi leaned over him, his tears splashing onto his blood stained face. 

_I’m right here, sweetheart. I’m right here!_

Kuroo tries to wipe away Daichi’s tears but his fingers float right through him.

“Come on, stop foolin’ around and wake up. This isn’t funny.”

_I would never, you know that._

“I need you, Tetsurou. I need you, ya hear?”

_I need you too._

Daichi lets out a broken sob, pressing his forehead to Kuroo’s despite the mess. God, if he does survive he’s gonna need a lot of surgery.

Daichi looks around, desperation in his eyes. Then he looks back at Kuroo, presses his lips against Kuroo’s. Oh how he wants to feel that, especially now.

Against his lips he whispers, “If you die, I’ll kill you.” Kuroo smirks at that; how very Daichi. “I’ll be back with help as fast as I can. Don’t. Die. Keep breathing. I… no, I’m not saying it. You’ll just have to wake up.”

Daichi stumbles to his feet, wincing and moaning against his own injuries but he steadfastly walks in the direction of where he believes help to be.

Kuroo feels a stab of pain in his chest, watches his own body as it lies here in a ditch and sighs.

_Hurry, Daichi._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy ending here [In Relief](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18194921/chapters/44165032)


	13. Discreetly

The first time it happens, or the first time Hinata takes notice of it, he's walking back from a trip to the convenience store with his captain. 

"Is that the mocha cocoa loco... or whatever it's called?" Kuroo asks through a yawn, appearing out of nowhere. 

Sawamura gives him an unimpressed look. "Yes," he answers, drawing out the word. 

"Gimme a sip? I'm having a hard time waking up." Kuroo stretches to apparently emphasize this fact. 

Suddenly Hinata is more awake too, his eyes flitting between his captain and the rooster tail. 

Daichi clicks his tongue, rolls his eyes... and hands over his cup. Kuroo takes a sip, smacks his lips and gives a grin as he hands it back. "Thanks, Sawamura, just the jolt I needed." 

"You're such a dork." He starts walking again, pausing to ask over his shoulder, "Hinata, you comin'?" 

Snapped out of his shock, Hinata nods, but his head turns to look back at Nekoma's captain who apparently is making his way to the same store they just came from. If so... why not just get his own drink?

Hinata shrugs. Oh well, maybe he can't drink a whole one. Hinata's like that with some stuff. He wants a taste but not the whole thing. 

By the time he and Sawamura get back to the gym with the rest of the team's orders, he's forgotten about it. 

* * *

Karasuno's lost again. They've finished their hill runs and Sawamura is lying on the grass to catch his breath. Hinata is sitting near him, trying to stretch in preparation for their next game. The cicadas buzz around them and the heat settles against their skin. 

"You know, at this rate, we'll have crow-shaped feet all over here,” Kuroo chuckles as he crests the hill. 

"Screw you," Sawamura grunts and Hinata gives him a glare. 

"Just teasin' shrimpy." Kuroo turns his attention to Hinata's captain again. "Drink?" he asks, holding out what appears to be his personal water bottle. 

Hinata gets his second surprise of the day when Sawamura takes it without hesitation, wraps his lips around the tip and takes a long swig. He wipes his mouth on the back of his hand, then hands the bottle back to Kuroo who takes a drink... without wiping off the tip. 

Hinata doesn't know why but the exchange feels... he doesn't really know but there's something... 

He decides not to think about it too much. 

* * *

"Sugawara-san? Do you... think it's weird that Sawamura-san and Kuroo-san share drinks?" 

Sugawara turns to Hinata, an amused gleam in his eyes. "Oh, you noticed, hmmm? Funny, they think they're so discreet."

"Discreet?" Hinata asks head cocked curiously. 

Sugawara snickers then motions Hinata to come closer which he does. "Have you never heard of... an indirect kiss?" 

Hinata's eyes go very wide. "Oooooh!! Is that what they're doing?!" 

Sugawara laughs out loud then. "Let me ask you this, Hinata. When is the last time you saw Daichi share a drink with anyone else? Including me." 

Hinata blushes. Now,  _that's_ an interesting development. 


	14. Casually

Kuroo isn't sure exactly how it started. Probably a dare or a drunk night, or a combination of both (as is usually the case with their ridiculous team) but somehow they've found their way to giving "boo-boo" kisses to each other. 

Complain about a test? Oh, here's a boo-boo kiss to your head. Your date went horribly wrong? Come're and get a smoochy, big guy. It's never anything more than a peck, usually to the head, sometimes the cheek by some of the, well, more cheeky of their team; cough, Oikawa, cough. 

The kisses are almost jokes in and of themselves now. Never in public—they don't need that kind of drama, thank you very much—but among their team, it works.

To be honest, he was surprised that Sawamura agreed to this ridiculousness but now that it's started, he's one of the first to initiate. Apparently, 'Mr. Reliable' is rather affectionate. 

A fact that is slowly, softly and surely killing Kuroo. And not for the reason one would suppose. No, jealousy has nothing to do with it. Ok, maybe he was a little jealous the first time Sawamura planted a firm kiss to Iwaizumi's forehead. No, the killing of Kuroo lies in the other affectionate habits Sawamura has grown accustomed to... with Kuroo. See, now that platonic kisses are a crossed boundary, Sawamura just... keeps going.

Like, laying Kuroo’s head in his lap to play with his hair when he's had a rough lab week. 

Or Sawamura leaning his head on Kuroo's shoulder while they watch a movie, often falling asleep there (and by consequence so does Kuroo's arm).

Kuroo almost dropped a whole bottle of bay leaves in his homemade sauce made for Italian night when Sawamura unexpectedly gave him a hug from behind, mumbled a 'thank you' then kissed him between his shoulder blades. 

Needless to say, Kuroo is... confused. What if these instances are just like the boo-boo kisses? He just... doesn't know. And the not knowing coupled with the random acts of affection are starting to fray his nerves. He doesn't want to lose Sawamura but he can't remain in this limbo. But being Kuroo, he also can't make things simple on himself by just asking. He has to be clever. Or try to be at least. 

"I swear it's like my head is in a vice," Kuroo complains one night. It's not a total lie. He's been stressing about his thesis report. But mainly he's tense because of what he's about to do. Or rather, because of what he hopes Sawamura will do. 

"Oh?" Sawamura asks, shifting his attention from his book to Kuroo. 

Kuroo rubs his temples for good measure. "Yeah, like there're little trolls just banging away up here." 

Sawamura snorts. "Don't talk bad about your people like that." 

"Hey! I'm too tall to be a troll!"

"Ok, cousins, then? You are more of a cyclops, what with the one visible eye and all."

"What is this, roast Kuroo night?"

"That's every night," Sawamura laughs. 

Kuroo hates to admit how true that is. He pouts, feeling his head start to ache for real now. He closes his eyes, taking in a deep breath. This was a bad idea, he should just ask like a grown—

Thoughts cease when he feels the press of lips to his forehead. It's not a quick peck, but slow, firm pressure. When he opens his eyes and looks up he finds Sawamura with his hands planted either side of where he sits on the couch. He's very, very close. 

"Feel better?" he asks, voice low and it turns Kuroo's insides to jelly. 

Slowly, Kuroo shakes his head. Steeling his nerves, he says, "It, uh, it's not just my head, ya know. More like... my whole face."

Sawamura's eyebrow cocks up but he doesn't say anything, merely leans in and gives him another kiss—this one to Kuroo's cheek. "Now?" 

"Better get the other side for good measure," Kuroo says, but his voice comes out much rougher than he means. 

Again, Sawamura complies without comment, leaning in and pressing those soft, warm lips to Kuroo's skin. Kuroo's fingers twitch with the want to grasp Sawamura's shirt collar and drag their lips together but he refrains, clutching his pant legs instead. He knows by now his deep breathing is giving him away but he can't stop; not unless Sawamura does. 

Which he doesn't, not by a long shot. Because the next thing Kuroo knows, Sawamura's nuzzling his nose against Kuroo's, murmuring, "Anywhere else you need a kiss?" 

Kuroo takes a quiet breath in, then whispers, “Yes.”  

Daichi hums questioningly, waiting until Kuroo says it, a small, knowing smile quirking up the side of his warm, wonderfully soft lips. 

With a shaking hand, Kuroo taps his own lips and Sawamura, bless him, doesn't make him wait past that confirmation. He closes the distance, fitting their lips together in a gentle kiss. It's over too quickly and before Kuroo knows what he's doing, his hands land on Sawamura's hips, pulling him down to straddle his lap.

Sawamura lets out a noise of surprise and Kuroo stops, looking up at him through half hooded and need glazed eyes. "Please," he sighs, fingers squeezing Sawamura's hips. They're past the point of casual now no matter Sawamura's decision, which Kuroo waits for with bated breath and thundering heart. 


	15. Passionately

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Continuation of Casually)

Sawamura's eyes trace over every inch of Kuroo's face, and Kuroo wants to squirm under the scrutiny. It's as though all his secrets are being laid bare and he's one part terrified, one part exhilarated. _Something_ is finally happening and even though it scares him, it means he doesn't have to wonder anymore. 

"Are you serious?" Sawamura asks quietly, his warm breath puffing over Kuroo's lips. He swears he sees hunger flit into his gaze sending heat trickling down Kuroo's spine. The atmosphere crackles between them, and he almost shivers with anticipation.  

"Would I ask if I wasn't?" Kuroo returns, raising his head ever so slightly to draw them closer together but still waiting, still giving Sawamura the choice to continue or stop. 

He really, really hopes he doesn't want to stop. 

"Just making sure," Sawamura sighs, a note of relief in his tone. Then he's slotting their mouths together and Kuroo ascends to heaven. Sawamura's tongue swipes the seam of Kuroo's mouth and he opens to him easily, a low moan pulling up from his throat. Kuroo pulls Sawamura fully against him, sliding his hands up his back as Sawamura's tangle in his hair, his blunt nails scraping his scalp. 

Sawamura breaks the kiss and Kuroo's whine at the loss morphs into a gasp when he plants hot, wet, open mouth kisses down the side of his neck. Kuroo's hands seek the heat of his lower back and the groan Sawamura releases confirms he doesn't mind some skin on skin. As so often is the case, when Kuroo pushes, Sawamura pulls but now it is a dance of cooperation. Sawamura's hand sneaks under Kuroo's shirt, fingertips blazing heat trails over his skin and Kuroo can't help tipping back and sliding down to give him better access. 

It seems Sawamura has other things in mind. He teases the edge of his ear before whispering, hot and wanting and oh so sexy, "Kuroo, would you let me take you to bed and kiss you everywhere no one else has?" 

When Kuroo forces his eyes open he finds Sawamura already looking at him. His pupils are blown wide, lips spit slick from their macking down and Kuroo has never felt so  _wanted_ in his whole life. "Yes, take me to bed... Daichi." 

 


	16. Lazily

Kuroo drags himself up the stairs towards his and Daichi's apartment, exhaustion settled in his bones. His client meeting was supposed to end two hours ago and yet here he is, late for dinner. Again. Thankfully Daichi didn't give him too much shit, knowing it's not his fault that he has to kiss ass and eat bad sushi to appease the powers that be. Ok, so it wasn't bad sushi but it would have tasted better eating it with Daichi.  

Everything is better with Daichi.  

As he enters the foyer he hears the TV, it's soft glow the only light in the room, and by it Kuroo finds Daichi lying on the couch, passed out asleep. A soft smile tilts Kuroo's lips up as he watches the rise and fall of his back, arm tucked under one of the cushions. His face is fully relaxed, lips slightly parted and breathing deep. Kuroo’s not surprised. Daichi gets up at the crack of dawn for those kids of his and gives 110% just like he did when he was a teenager. 

He walks softly to the couch and kneels down, enjoying the chance to appreciate Daichi in the quiet, the dull murmur of the TV the only other sound. Leaning forward, he plants a kiss to Daichi’s cheek. 

Daichi stirs, tilting his face up and cracking open his eyes. “Welcome home,” he yawns, offering a soft kiss to Kuroo’s lips. 

Kuroo chuckles. “Thanks, lazy bones.” 

“Shut up, I had a long day too.” 

“I know, just teasing. You’re quite adorable when you’re all tuckered out, even if you are grumpy.” 

Daichi yawns again, propping up first on his elbow and then hefting himself up to a sitting position. Rubbing his eyes, he says, “I’m getting old, it’s not even that late, is it?”

Kuroo hums. “Close to 9:00. What time did you lay down?” 

Daichi shrugs. “Don’t remember. I ate and decided to watch something while I waited for you. Must have just drifted off.”

“Well, come on, I need snuggles and more lazy kisses.” 

“I am not lazy, I’m tired,” Daichi huffs. 

“Either way. You. Me. Bed.” 

Daichi nods, his eyes already going half closed again. Kuroo clicks the TV off, offering his hand which Daichi takes. He pulls him into a hug. “Missed you. I’ll make it up to you,” he whispers into his hair.    


Daichi pats his back. “You’re working hard, it’s ok.” 

Arm in arm, they head down the hall to their bedroom, glad to be done with their busy days and back with each other.   


	17. To Distract

People assume having a job in the “art world” is so fun or so sexy or so whatever other preconceived notion they have. And while some of that is true, it’s also a lot of hard work and when you have an uncooperative muse, very, very stressful. Particularly when there are deadlines involved. Which is where he is now, staring at a blank screen, a blinking cursor and no idea what to do.  

When Asahi had encouraged him to publish one of his stupid little stories a year ago, he’d done it sorely to spite him. To prove to him that what he wrote was just ridiculousness that no one would want to read for free let alone pay for.  

Turns out the joke was on him when he ended up being contacted by a freaking publishing firm who wanted more. And to pay him for it.  

Even still, he was skeptical. So he sent off the first draft of his slightly longer but still short story—a novella he supposed—and was flabbergasted that it passed the first review with mostly grammatical and spelling issues. But the story itself, they loved. And so did the general public once it was released. And now they're clamoring for more. More that Daichi, despite all his effort, is currently unable to produce. A touch to his shoulder makes him jump and he whips his head around, hand to his chest. “Damn, some days I think you really are a cat."  

“Or maybe you’re just too lost in your own head. Come on, get up. Take a walk, something, but no more sitting here.”  

“I can’t, I have to get this draft done by next Friday and I have nothing down.” 

“That’s not true,” Kuroo says, pointing to Daichi’s notebook. “That looks like something to me.” 

“Ok, ok, yes, but that’s just the outline. I can’t give the editor an outline.” 

“Still, you’ve been in here for two hours—” 

“Two… hours? I am so screwed. I won’t be able to get this done—” 

“Daichi—” 

“—and I’ll lose the contract because I can’t deliver as promised. I knew I should have had you read it first. I don’t even know the actual consequences of failing to produce. What if… what if they can sue me for breach of contract? Is that even a thing with writing? I mean, it’s not like I haven’t been trying. I just can’t get what’s up here,” he knocks his knuckles against his skull, “into any sort of coherent readable words. And I just keep, hey, wha—” 

Daichi’s panic rant is snuffed by Kuroo’s lips sealing his. His eyelids flick closed when Kuroo plants himself in his lap, deepening the kiss. Daichi wraps his arms around Kuroo’s waist, tugging him close and kissing back with enthusiasm. Kuroo leans in and distantly Daichi hears the click of his laptop shutting.  

When they part, both are breathing heavy and Daichi’s eyes meet Kuroo’s. “So that was your plan, huh? Sneaky cat, distracting me.”  

“You need it,” Kuroo says, cupping his face, thumb tracing over his cheek. “And I need you.”  

Daichi chuckles. “So cheesy. Lucky it’s one of the things I love about you.” 

Kuroo kisses him again, softer. “Come on sweetheart, you need a break and some food. Probably some fresh air. An hour or two away isn’t going to kill you, if anything it will help.” 

Daichi closes his eyes and takes in a long breath, his forehead leaning against Kuroo’s. “I know you’re right, I’m just—” 

“I know. I know,” Kuroo says, both hands on his face tilting it up to look at him. “You’ll get there. And maybe you can ask for an extension or even if what you send isn’t good, which I highly doubt, it’s the first draft. It’s not supposed to be perfect.”  

Kuroo’s words sink into Daichi, soothing his frazzled nerves like a balm. He feels some of the tension in his neck and shoulders abate. Hugging Kuroo close, he hooks his chin in the crook of his neck. “Thanks, Tetsu,” he says softly.  

“Anytime.”  


	18. For Luck

“Wortle berries, check. Star lily leaves, check. Nail of a phoenix, check. And… yes, seven tentacled octopus ink. Check.”  

“Is it really an octopus then?” Kuroo asks, grinning.  

Daichi rolls his eyes, but Kuroo can see his lips fighting the urge to smile and it just makes his own widen until finally, the warlock lets slip a snort. “Such a dork.”  

“Whoops, you mispronounced demon. Are you sure you should be conducting a spell?” 

“Careful or I’ll push you into a portal.”  

Kuroo gasps, clawed hand going to his chest in dramatic fashion. “So cruel, and here I am just trying to be helpful.” 

“If by helpful you mean irritatingly distracting, then yes, you’ve been quite helpful.” Daichi’s smiling but there’s tension in his eyes.  

Kuroo’s grin falls and he steps closer, gathering Daichi’s hand in both of his and squeezing. “Hey, I’m sorry. You just looked really tense, so I was trying to make you relax.” 

“By insinuating I won’t get the spell right…” 

“You know I’m only teasing,” Kuroo says, trailing one knuckle down the side of Daichi’s cheek so as not to knick him with a claw.  

Daichi takes in and lets out a long breath. “Yeah, I know. It’s just… this is a big deal. This is my chance to join the merged coven. If I pull this off—” 

“Karasuno can fly again. Literally. I get it,” Kuroo ends for him, now drawing him into his arms.  

Daichi nods.  

They stand like that for a few moments before Kuroo plucks the list of spell components off the work table. “Hmm… looks like something’s missing…” 

“Huh? I double checked everything!” Daichi makes to snatch it back but Kuroo snakes an arm around his neck and draws their lips together. When they part, Daichi’s eyes are a little dazed.  

“A kiss for luck. The most important ingredient.” 

Daichi takes in a long breath. “If you thought that was cute… you’re right. But, how about just kissing me without giving me a heart attack?” 

Kuroo’s grin turns wicked, a glow beginning to build in his eyes. “With pleasure,  _darling_.” Then he kisses him again. For luck… for love… for life...  


	19. As Encouragement

Kuroo takes a deep breath, secures the last button of his uniform and pins on his badge. This is it. He’s official. Well, he was official when he first got the thing but now, standing in the locker room, his issued weapon on his belt, it hits him. Tonight, for the first time, he’s going on patrol.  

“Looks like what they say about men in uniforms is true.”  

He turns, lips falling into a smile. “That they look sexy?” 

“Hmmmhmmm. Very.” Daichi wraps his arms around Kuroo’s neck. “Shame I won’t see you for eight hours.”  

“Speaking of, what are you doing here? Actually, how did you even get back here?” 

Daichi laughs and pecks Kuroo’s nose. “Bokuto.”  

“Ah, of course, I should have known.”  

“Well, he is your partner. And partners take care of each other.” 

Kuroo’s eyebrow quirks up. “And he thought I needed taking care of?” 

Daichi nods, pulling him closer until their foreheads touch, one hand sliding gently into Kuroo’s hair, just enough for him to feel it and not enough to “mess it up”. “He’s pretty perceptive. I think he could tell you’re nervous.” He nuzzles Kuroo’s nose. “You’ll do great. You finished top of your class.” 

“Yeah but that’s theory and practice. This is real,” Kuroo says, squeezing Daichi’s waist tightly.  

“And practice makes permanent. You practiced well.” He taps the shield pinned to Kuroo’s chest. “This is a symbol of that.” He leans in again, slotting his lips over Kuroo’s, kissing him firmly. “Badge or not, you’ll always be my hero.”  

Kuroo snorts. “You are so cheesy.” But he’s smiling, his shoulders are relaxed and the knot in his stomach, while still there, has loosened somewhat.  

“I blame you. You rubbed off on me. You're a bad influence and deserve punishment.” 

Now Kuroo’s stomach fills with warm, pleasurable anticipation. “I thought I was the lawman around here?’ 

“Around here, yes.” Daichi winks, gives him another kiss then pulls away.  

“Wait, were you serious about the… you know?” Kuroo asks with a flush.  

Daichi laughs, bright and beautiful. “You’ll see.”  

At least Kuroo’s not nervous anymore.  


	20. On a scar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *Warning for mentions of violence (not graphic)*

Daichi lets out a low moan, the sound spiking Kuroo’s want higher. Their lips have been fastened together for the better part of an hour, hands roaming over one another, but Kuroo wants more. They’ve been taking it slow, not rushing into sex but lately the temptation to touch Daichi’s skin in new places has been growing.  

He breaks from Daichi’s lips. “Dai… can I take off your shirt?” he asks in-between peppering soft kisses down his neck to his collar bone. Daichi squirms against the slightly ticklish sensation but at Kuroo’s question, he pauses. His eyes open and Kuroo is there to meet his gaze. “We don’t have to go further than that, I’d just… really like to kiss more of you. If you’re ok with it.”  

Daichi’s cheeks flush, the pink far more delicate than one would expect on such a solid mass of man. Kuroo knows this is only for him to see and it thrills him anew. Daichi licks his lips, fingers clenching a little tighter to Kuroo’s shirt but then he nods.  

Kuroo draws him to a seat position for ease of removal. Gently he slides his hands under the hem of Daichi’s shirt, a little testing of the waters and a little teasing because he can’t help himself. He spreads his fingers out over the expanse of Daichi’s broad back. “You’re so warm,” he whispers into his ear.  

He feels Daichi swallow against the crook of his neck. “Just do it,” he says through a sigh.  

Kuroo nuzzles then presses a soft kiss to his cheek. “We don’t have to if you’re uncomfortable.”  

There’s another pause then Daichi shakes his head. “Keep going.”  

Kuroo leans back to allow for clearance and Daichi lifts his arms. Foregoing further delay, Kuroo pulls the material off in one fluid motion. “So gorgeous,” he says, pushing Daichi to his back once more. He gives a small kiss to his chest right over his heart. It’s cheesy as hell but Kuroo doesn’t care. Daichi deserves overt romance and affection, no matter how much he acts to the contrary.  

His eyes flick to Daichi’s face to find him watching. Maintaining eye contact, he presses a path of kisses slowly down his skin, over his ribs, across his stomach, ending at his belt line. Only then does he allow himself to sit back and really look at Daichi.  

And that’s when he sees it.  

“Sweetheart… what’s this from?” he asks without thought, pointing to a prominent scar on Daichi’s right side. It’s just below his ribcage, about two inches long. A frown creases Daichi’s face and Kuroo instantly regrets asking. “You don’t have to tell me,” he adds hastily, hoping he hasn’t completely ruined the mood.  

Daichi shakes his head. “It’s fine, I mean, how could you not ask, right?” 

Kuroo just shrugs, unsure what to say. 

Daichi’s fingers trace over the scar as he sits up. “It was at Nationals the year after we graduated. I was meeting up with Asahi and Suga to surprise the team.” His frown becomes more pronounced as memory takes hold and Kuroo reaches out, taking his hand. “Suga wasn’t there yet but Asahi was and these assholes were giving him a hard time outside the stadium.” He shakes his head.  

Kuroo’s stomach twists, mind already racing to a logical conclusion but he remains quiet.  

“Asahi wasn’t—still isn’t—a fighter. He would have just taken it.” He shrugs. “He probably had the right idea. Just let them be idiots and move on. But, you know me. I got between them before Asahi even realized I was there. 

“Long story short, Asahi stepped next to me, probably to pull me back, and one of the idiots used it as an excuse to lay a sucker punch to him.” He tightens his grip on Kuroo’s hand. “I lost it. Decked the guy who hit him. Before I could get a handle on the others, one had pulled a knife. I moved just in time, otherwise, the blade would have been buried in my gut instead of just grazing it. As it was, the cut was still pretty deep."  

He lets out a shaky breath. “And that’s when Suga showed up, saw what was happening and alerted security. They ended up calling the actual police.”  

Kuroo’s body feels cold. “Fuck. You… you could have died…”  

Daichi nods. “Yep. Still wonder how I made captain sometimes, what with my hot head and all.”  

Kuroo shakes his head, pushing Daichi to his back and leaning over him. He leans down, pressing a soft kiss to the scar. “You’re perfect, Daichi.” 

Daichi’s stomach shakes with laughter. “Uh huh, sure. Keep telling yourself that, Tetsu.”  

Moving to Daichi’s face, Kuroo cups it and presses another kiss to his lips. “I’ll be sure to tell _you_ every day.”  

Daichi looks at him with soft eyes. “Just… keep kissing me, you sap.”  

And Kuroo is happy to oblige.  


	21. On a place of insecurity

Kuroo stands in front of the mirror, a pout on his lips and his fingers in his hair. There’s a copious amount of gel in it and still, he can’t get it to lay flat. Or part different. Or do anything except stand up on one side, cover half his eye and… he sighs.

He probably should cut it. Maybe shave? No, that would look terrible. He emits another long sigh, thunking his forehead against the mirror.

“You better clean that damn good when you’re done being ridiculous,” Daichi says as he passes him, hanging up towels fresh from the dryer. Kuroo can smell the fabric softener from here.

“How can you scold me when I’m distressed.”

Daichi turns around, gives him “a look” then reaches up and flicks his forehead. Over Kuroo’s whining protests he says, “Your hair is fine. Why are you stressing?” Kuroo looks at his reflection, slightly distorted thanks to the smear of useless hair gel on its surface. But his eyes don’t remain there long, Daichi’s hand gently cupping his face to look back at him. “Hey, seriously, what’s going on?” Gone is the teasing tone and the bemused eyes, replaced with concern and gentle consideration.

Daichi really can be soft sometimes, a fact Kuroo is immensely grateful for. Not many in his life truly know how deeply Kuroo feels things, how sensitive he can be. He shrugs but Daichi isn’t letting him off the hook. “Talk to me, Tetsurou.”

Kuroo takes in a deep breath. “I’m worried my perpetual bed head is holding me back at work.”

Daichi blinks, the corner of his lip twitching. “What?”

“I’m serious. Everyone there thinks I’m just a delinquent in a suit. They don’t—”

“Stop it, right now.” Daichi’s tone is soft but firm. He leans up, brushing a light kiss to Kuroo’s lips. “Wash that crap outta your hair while I finish up the laundry then go lie down.”

Kuroo nods, heading to the shower as Daichi exits the bathroom, shutting the door with a click. Kuroo makes quick work of gel removal, taking an extra few minutes to scrub the rest of his body since he’s here, then turns the taps off, toweling down first his body then rubbing his hair until it’s a fluffy rather than a shiny mess again. He tugs on the clean pair of joggers Daichi left while he was showering and exits the bathroom.  

When he enters the bedroom, Daichi is on the bed clad only in loose fitting sweats and lying on his side, his head cradled in his hand. Kuroo can feel some of his initial stress already melting away like the candles Daichi’s lit at just the sight of his ridiculously attractive boyfriend patting the space on the bed next to him invitingly.

Kuroo lies on his back, looking up at Daichi’s handsome face, his strong jaw, his perfect cupid's pout. Then Daichi’s fingers are running through his hair and he closes his eyes, a soft content sigh brushing past his lips. He feels the dip of the mattress as Daichi moves close to him, heat radiating from his body and Kuroo relaxes further. There’s a soft press of lips to the crown of his head and Daichi whispers, “I love your hair, Tetsurou.”

Kuroo’s breath hitches but he has no time to respond before Daichi is rolling his body on top of his. Kuroo’s hands caress his back as he presses his lips to his fringe against his forehead. “I love how soft it is.”

He gives a soft tug and even just that slight pressure is enough to have Kuroo’s lips parting in a light gasp. Daichi takes advantage of it, slotting his own against them and kissing Kuroo deeply as he continues to run his fingers through his hair, only stopping momentarily to give those short tugs.

“Daichi,” Kuroo moans, holding him close, his eyes cracking opening.

“I love every part of you. If you really want to change your hair, I won’t stop you, but don’t do it for your job. Do it for you,” Daichi says, cupping his face and nuzzling his nose.

“I won’t cut it, I won’t change a thing. Just… keep going… please…” Kuroo begs.

Daichi smiles, leans down and does just that.

  


	22. In a rush of adrenaline

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Office AU

Eyes dry from staring at a screen for too many hours without enough sleep, Daichi hits ‘send’, then slumps further into his chair. “Well, it’s off,” he says, gaze darting to where Kuroo sits in a similar fashion. 

“Finally. If I never have to look at projections and estimations again I’ll die a happy man.” 

Daichi chuckles, standing to stretch, muscles protesting the movement. It’s really been too long since he went to the gym but ten to twelve hour days leave him living on a diet of takeout, leftover takeout and not enough sleep. “If we pull this off, I say we put in for time off,” he groans. 

He’s startled to find Kuroo staring at him when he looks back at him. But a second later, his eyes dart away and he wonders if the momentary heat he spied there was a figment of sleep deprivation… and misguided hope. 

Working with Kuroo has been, on the whole, a good experience. Sure, they butt heads but it just means what they produce is that much better. That and it’s a little fun, a fact he will never, ever admit out loud because if Kuroo ever truly knows that Daichi enjoys the banter as much as he seems to, it will never end. 

“We should probably get going, let them finish setting the alarm,” Daichi says, picking up his coat. 

But Kuroo surprises him by saying, “I mean, we could… but what if we get a reply? I don’t know about you, but if there’s any chance of knowing the outcome I want to take it.”

“Kuroo, we’ve spent,” Daichi looks at the clock on his wall, “eleven hours here today.”

“And what’s one more if it means an actually restful weekend?”

“Since when are you the worrier, mister ' _it’ll all be fine, just relax Sawamura_ '?” 

“Much as having your last name attached to me is appealing, that’s a bit of a mouthful,” Kuroo teases. 

And thank goodness for the dim light level, because damn it if that doesn’t have Daichi’s cheeks heating right up.  _ It’s just a joke, you idiot _ . 

Kuroo heaves himself up from his seat, stalking over to lean his palm against Daichi’s desk, pressing into his personal space a little more than necessary. If it were anyone else, Daichi would either give them a ‘back it up’ look or move away. But he annoyingly and stupidly has managed to garner quite the crush on this bed-headed moron so he allows the close proximity. 

“Just an hour. Are you really so eager to get away from me?” Kuroo asks through an inquisitive hum. 

Daichi sits back down, mainly just to impart some distance. Kuroo’s cologne and the suggestive tone of his voice are a rather dangerous combination. “Fine, an hour,” Daichi agrees, turning his attention back to his laptop. 

“What do you like to do for fun, Sawamura?” Kuroo asks. 

Daichi blinks up at him. He’s not sure why but part of him anticipated them waiting quietly. Stupid, really, because Kuroo is a loquacious bastard. “Fun, what’s that?” he huffs. Lately, it feels like all he spends his time doing is working and sleeping. 

Kuroo slides forward, taking a seat on the corner of Daichi’s desk as easily as if he belongs there. Unwittingly, Daichi’s eyes dart to the expanse of wood, neat and tidy with everything in its place. He wants to mess it up; with Kuroo. When he looks back at him, Kuroo’s looking at him like he  _ knows _ and even if he doesn’t, just the thought that he might has Daichi’s cheeks heating up again. “You’re really cute, you know that?” Kuroo asks next, completely throwing him for a loop. 

Daichi sits in stunned silence, trying to form any semblance of a reply. And then his email notification sounds. Quick as a whip, he whirls to the screen, clicking the incoming message. His eyes dart through the caged formality of the email but the short end of it all is… they didn’t get it. 

His shoulders slump, his eyes water (or maybe he’s crying) and he falls into a heap in his chair. One glance at Kuroo’s face lets him know, he doesn’t need to say anything. He’s not even sure he can without choking. All that work… 

“Hey, Sawamura,” Kuroo says drawing his attention away from the glow of the screen, “come’re.” 

Daichi stands without thought, allowing Kuroo to draw him close, slotting him between his legs as he wraps his arms around his shoulders. After a moment’s hesitation, Daichi’s arms snake around Kuroo’s waist, his face tucked into the crook of his neck. Kuroo’s hand rubs up and down his back and Daichi lets out a shuddering breath. “I’m sorry,” he whispers into the silence of the room. 

Kuroo shakes his head, his hair tickling the side of Daichi’s face, as he increases the pressure of his hold. “We both did our best. It just… wasn’t enough this time,” he says quietly. 

And that, for whatever reason, snaps Daichi from defeated to angry. He pulls back, hands still on Kuroo’s waist but fire in his eyes. “That’s such bullshit! There’s gotta be another reason! Kuroo, we busted our asses for weeks and weeks on this. I know what we sent was utter perfection.” 

They stare into each other's eyes and the look Kuroo is giving him blooms a new heat in Daichi's stomach. “Damn Sawamura, how can you look so _hot_ when you’re angry?” Kuroo blurts. 

Daichi leans closer, fueled with a mixture of pent up lust and unbridled fury. “It’s a gift. Care for me to burn you?” 

“Please,” Kuroo sighs and that’s all it takes for Daichi to make good on his earlier impulse to absolutely wreck his desk. He sweeps his arm across the polished wood, sending anything in its path—including the laptop—clattering to the floor. In one fluid motion, he has Kuroo pinned, climbing on top of him before slotting their mouths together.

They both moan at the contact, hands frantically tugging and pulling at one another, Kuroo’s fingers undoing the buttons of Daichi’s shirt as Daichi’s tug Kuroo’s tie loose. Daichi dives his hands between their bodies, wrenching Kuroo’s tightly tucked shirt up and out, his palms pressing against gloriously firm abs. 

He mouths down the side of Kuroo’s neck, smirking at the gasps and sighs he draws out. “I’m not a quitter. And I’m not gonna let someone steamroll us either.” Daichi raises up to his knees, tugging his shirt completely off, taking great pride in Kuroo’s black blown pupils. He leans back down, kissing Kuroo again, softer and with more intention. “But for now, none of that matters. You’re the only thing on this desk I wanna do.” 

And he does… thoroughly. 

  
  



	23. In Relief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of [In Grief](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18194921/chapters/43358543) (Make sure to read this one first)

“Dai, you need to get some sleep.”  

“I left him once and he nearly died, I’m not going anywhere.” 

“It wasn’t because—” 

“Suga, I’m not leaving and that’s final.”  

Silence returns and Kuroo wonders where he is that Daichi and Suga are talking in such hushed but emphatic tones. Come to think of it, it feels like forever since he saw Daichi, heard his voice, felt his touch.  

He tries to open his eyes, but it’s no good. He’s just too tired. Or weak. So he contents himself to listen, hoping Daichi will say more. Wherever Kuroo’s been, he recognizes now how much he’s missed his boyfriend.  

“I’m gonna get you some food. Hopefully, you’ll eat it this time,” Suga says. There’s the sound of a door opening and shutting and then the silence returns save for a distant beeping.  

Kuroo next tries to talk, his tongue a heavy dead weight in his mouth. He wants to talk to Daichi, to tell him he’s sorry for whatever it is that he did or said that pushed them away from each other.  

Warmth encompasses his hand and it takes him a few seconds to recognize it for what it is; Daichi’s hand holding his. Now only if he could get his muscles to cooperate, to hold his hand back, squeeze it.  

There’s the press of lips to his forehead then Daichi is speaking again, voice low and broken and so, so sad. “I’m so sorry, Tetsu. I should have stopped when you said.” Further words choke off and Kuroo can feel the muscles in his brow want to furrow but he just can’t get them to move damn it. “I was just in such a hurry to get home. But you’re my home, Tetsurou. And if you come back to me, I promise I’ll spend the rest of my life making this up to you.”  

Through the hand holding his, Kuroo can feel the tremble and shake of Daichi’s body as he works to control his sobs but they come anyway. Kuroo feels wetness on his forehead and his memories finally flood back. Daichi and he in their car headed back from Miyagi where they’d been visiting their friends and Daichi’s family. Kuroo suggesting they stay at a motel or even just pull to the side of the road to catch some sleep. Daichi insisting he was fine and that Kuroo could sleep if he wanted but he was going to press on.  

And then… nothing until he was lying outside his own body watching Daichi watch him dying.  

He needs to wake up, right now.  

With a herculean effort, his fingers curl in, squeezing Daichi’s hand with the strength of a toddler he’s sure but he’s moving.  

Daichi’s breath catches, and then softly, as though he can’t believe that just happened, says, “Tetsurou?” 

Kuroo finally gets his eyes open, barely, but enough to show he’s  _here_. He’s with Daichi.  

“Oh god, thank you. Thank you,” Daichi whispers, voice rough. He leans down, pressing a long but soft kiss to Kuroo’s lips and the relief he feels is palpable.  

As Daichi draws back, Kuroo’s throat constricts in effort to speak but is so dry all he can manage is a cough. Daichi moves just far enough to grab a cup and straw, water already poured. He places the straw against Kuroo’s lips who sucks down the liquid gratefully.  

Parchment abated, he forces his eyes fully open, thankful the light in the room is dim though all he’s looking at it Daichi’s red-rimmed and tear-bright eyes. “I… I love you, Daichi.”  

Daichi lets out a louder sob, arms gently wrapping around Kuroo’s body as best he can with the cables and lines hooked up to him. He whispers against his temple, “I love you, so, so much Tetsu. I’m so sorry.”  

Kuroo shakes his head. He wants to tell him it’s not his fault, that he doesn’t blame him and there’s a reason they’re called accidents. But he can’t get any more words out, so relieved himself to be here, with the man he loves.  

He can fight about guilt with him later.  


	24. In Danger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mafia AU (small mention of violence/blood)

Daichi walked into the bar, checking his tie as he passed a mirror and smoothing the back of his hair even if it didn’t need it. One must always look their best, especially when doing business. His eyes scanned the room quickly, easily spotting his target. It wasn’t hard given his garish red suit jacket and ridiculous hair. 

Kuroo stood as Daichi approached, offering a half smirk in greeting, but Daichi didn’t miss the flash of nervousness in his gaze. It set him on edge, leading him to grip the hand extended to his a bit harder than was perhaps necessary. Kuroo winced through his greeting. “G’evening S’mura, looking dashing as always.” 

Daichi gave a slight grin though it was tight. Kuroo was up to something. Even with all the years of cooperation between their organizations, there were many times Daichi couldn’t read between the lines of what Kuroo was doing or saying. It kept him on his toes and though a small part of him appreciated that, maybe even looked forward to it in some ways, it could be unnerving. Like now, when he was here alone, trusting that Kuroo was too. Which, so far, seemed to be the case. There wasn't even a bartender in sight, which gave Daichi pause to consider how Kuroo had drinks ready for them. For all he knew, he'd paid (or used some other form of persuasion) to have the bar completely to themselves.

Daichi had confidence in his abilities and didn’t doubt he could take Kuroo down if the need arose. But he didn’t want to and that was a whole other ballgame. 

“You look like your mind is going a million miles an hour. No need to burn that kind of fuel, this is just a friendly meeting, after all,” Kuroo said, gesturing for Daichi to take a seat across from his own. 

Daichi cocked an eyebrow as he sat down, adjusting his jacket. Kuroo didn’t miss the movement, eyes darting directly to where Daichi’s concealed gun resided in its holster. “Our definition of friendly varies widely, Kuroo, you know that as well as I do. You won’t catch me with my pants down.” 

Kuroo’s eyes raked over Daichi’s chest, his own rising slightly as he took a deep breath. “What a shame. I mean, don’t get me wrong, the suit looks good on you. But it’d look better on my bedroom floor.” Daichi always looked good, ensuring his attire matched the title he wore as Karasuno’s leader.  He was impressed (and a little disappointed) with how well Daichi controlled his blush at his bold reply. 

“I don’t have time for your silly games.” To emphasize this, Daichi glanced at the excessively expensive watch on his wrist. “You have fifteen minutes, and I’m only granting that much because of the amount of bullshit I know you’ll make me wade through.”

Kuroo huffed, slouching down in his seat, feigning cool relaxation when his heart was thundering. Daichi certainly wasn’t making this any easier, but Kuroo wouldn’t expect less from a man he so admired; for more than how good he looked in a suit. 

“Tick tock,” Daichi said when Kuroo had remained silent for a minute, slowly turning the glass of sake in front of him. He’d yet to take a drink of it but now he picked it up, tossing it like a shot, feeling the burn as he slammed the glass back down. He opened his mouth, but his words were cut off by an explosion followed by debris flying past them.  Both Kuroo and Daichi sprang to their feet, instinct driving them towards then up and over the bar. They landed heavily on the other side, crouched with weapons in hand. Kuroo was about to move but froze at the feel of cold steel next to his throat. “What the fuck are you up to? Ten seconds to answer before I slit your throat,” Daichi hissed in his ear. 

Kuroo’s finger twitched to the trigger of his gun but instead of firing it, he loosed his lips. “This wasn’t me, Sawamura!” A quick flick of his wrist pushed the blade far enough from his flesh for him to get the muzzle of his gun into Daichi’s face. “How do I know this wasn’t you?” 

Daichi didn’t even blink. “I don’t make a spectacle of my kills.” 

Kuroo let out a harsh bark of laughter. “Oh really? And what about that debacle last week? Quite the mess you made.” 

Daichi’s eyes narrowed, his other hand grabbing the barrel of Kuroo’s gun, shoving it to the ground. “I said  _ my _ kills. Trust me, that was dealt with.” 

Kuroo swallowed thickly. He didn’t want to think about what that meant. Daichi was a fair leader, he knew that better than most, but he still had a temper that rivaled even Oikawa’s depending on the situation.

A burst of gunfire interrupted them. As it dissipated they heard from beyond their cover a chuckle of laughter. “Looks like we caused a lover’s spat. Pity they didn’t just off each other, huh?” 

“Shut up you moron!

Daichi and Kuroo’s eyes met. They didn’t recognize those voices. Kuroo held up one finger to his lips and Daichi nodded. Slowly they backed away from each other, careful not to cut themselves on the splintered wood and glass around them. 

Daichi adjusted the blade in his hand, ready to fling. He was irritated with himself. Asahi had tried insisting he bring some back up with him tonight but his pride and sense of honor had made him turn it down. Kuroo had requested just him and so that was what he’d gotten. Despite Daichi’s wariness of the man, he knew Kuroo was also honorable. They’d met on neutral ground. So how the hell had they ended up in this situation?  

Now was not the time to be distracted by regrets, not if they wanted to get out of here alive. Daichi crept as quietly as possible but it was hard, his dress shoes scraping against the muddle of debris around him. 

He finally managed to gain a sightline to one of the mirrors lining the side of the bar. From his vantage, he counted three men, two with the automatic weapons that had unloaded into the bar and one whose hands he couldn’t see. Glancing towards Kuroo, he found him already looking at him and held up three fingers, then two after which he made the signal for gun. Kuroo nodded. 

Ok, Kuroo thought, two armed for sure, one unknown and that was just what Daichi could see. It was unnerving that they hadn’t made another move yet. They had both him and Daichi pinned, it would have been easy to skirt around the bar and finish them off. Not that he minded idiocy… or inexperience. Often, the two went hand in hand. Just who were these guys? Not that he knew every member of every gang Nekoma tousled with but it was still bewildering to be blindsided not only by fledglings but from a potential new threat. 

Just great. 

Across from him was an empty hallway and if he played his cards right he could get a glance at the other side of the room. Daichi’s eyes were still on him and when he tossed his head towards the darkness beyond him, he nodded understanding. In the back of his mind, Kuroo marveled at how well they were able to communicate. Neither had been in a gunfight on the same side before and it was gratifying in a strange way to know they worked so well together. It just pushed his want of the whole reason he’d called Daichi here higher.  Now he just needed to survive, along with Daichi, long enough to get the words out. 

Taking a deep breath, he dashed out from his cover. His quick eyes counted two more adversaries bringing the total to five. He also saw the cause of the initial explosion; a heavy armored vehicle had barrelled through the bar front, destroying it completely.

While his plan had gained them more intel he had no way to communicate to Daichi without shouting. That and it exposed his location. “There’s one of them! Remember, Akashi-san wants them alive!” 

Kuroo’s brow furrowed. Akaashi? Fukurodani was behind this? No time to think about it now, he’d need to sort it out with Bokuto later. Either in words or fists, he wasn’t sure yet. The crunch of boots against glass came nearer. Just as one of their attackers stepped into his line of sight, he gave a grunt of pain and fell forward, landing right near where Kuroo remained crouched in the shadows. From his back, protruded a knife. 

“Fuck, they got Shota!” 

Kuroo didn’t waste time, pointing his gun and firing, nailing the second man right between the eyes. More gunfire erupted but before he could return fire, his hand was grabbed. 

Daichi tugged Kuroo to his feet, moving with swiftness he was not believed to be capable of. “We have to get to higher ground,” he insisted, releasing Kuroo’s hand so he could shoulder open the fittingly named emergency exit. Behind them, he could hear their pursuers firing again. They shot wildly, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t manage a lucky shot. Just as he rounded a corner, Daichi felt the burn of a bullet graze his neck.  He didn’t pause, shucking his jacket to allow his arms freer range of motion. He could hear Kuroo right on his heels before he passed him. Damn bastard and his long limbs. 

“Any idea where to go?” Kuroo called back. 

“Should’ve stayed behind me if you don’t know where you’re going!” Daichi snapped. 

“It’s not my fault you’re so slow.”

“Shut the fuck up and turn right, asshole.” 

Kuroo did as told. His lungs burned and his legs ached. He was sure he probably had splinters in his shins. 

From behind them, he heard one of their enemies shout, “Which way did they go?” 

“Right! Get them!” 

Kuroo cursed as a new hail of bullets chased them down, one nicking the sleeve of his jacket. He clicked his tongue. “Great, now I gotta get a new one.” 

“Don’t bother, it’s ridiculous,” Daichi said through a grunt. 

“Says the man who wears an orange tie.” 

“That’s an accent piece, yours is a fashion catastrophe.” 

“Are you seriously insulting my taste in clothes while we’re under fire?” 

“Just making sure I have no regrets in case this doesn’t end well for us.” 

Kuroo’s gut twisted at that but even under duress, he wasn’t one to pass up an opener like that. He skirted around a blind corner, grabbing Daichi’s wrist and tugging him into the small alcove. It was a tight squeeze, their bodies pressed flush together. “Then neither will I,” Kuroo whispered harshly before slotting his mouth over Daichi’s. The kiss wasn’t what he’d envisioned, both of them nearly out of breath, covered in sweat and blood, but somehow, given their chosen paths, it was fitting. 

When they parted, sharing the same air through pants to try to catch their breaths, Daichi’s half closed eyes looked into Kuroo’s. “You really just did that,” he muttered. 

Kuroo nodded, laying his forehead against Daichi’s. He closed his eyes, swallowed his nerves and laughed that  _ this _ was more scary to him than being hunted like an animal. “I called you here tonight to ask for an alliance.” His hand cupped Daichi’s face, thumb wiping away a trickle of blood from his cheek. “I didn’t want us having to sneak around. I want this out in the open.” He leaned in again, kissing Daichi slower and deeper, heedless of the fact they could be caught any second. As they parted he added, “I want it official, in business and in pleasure.” 

Daichi licked his lips as he pulled back. His mind was fuzzy which wasn’t good. Damn Kuroo and his piss poor timing; damn him and his incredibly addictive kisses. “Let’s get outta here,” he said with a grin, “then we can discuss… terms.” As Kuroo nodded, both their focuses returned to the task at hand; getting out alive and finding who had staged this little escapade. 


	25. As A Yes

Kuroo rolls over, his arms wrapping tightly around the warm and sturdy body that, until ten seconds ago, was sharing his bed. Damn that alarm. Daichi grumbles, half-heartedly trying to squirm out of his hold. “Don’t go yet,” Kuroo mumbles against his lower back, eyes closing again.  

Daichi lets out a long sigh. “Kuroo, if I don’t get up right now, I’m going to miss the train.”

“I miss you, so you can miss it.”

There’s another sigh and Daichi shifts, but Kuroo won’t let go. “Let me turn around at least, doofus.” Kuroo shakes his head, hair tickling Daichi’s skin. “If you don’t let me turn around, I can’t kiss you.”

“Oh no, I’m not falling for that again.” Kuroo tightens his hold. “You’re not getting away from me that easily, Sawamura.” He huffs. “Shame on you for using affection to manipulate me.”

“That’s not… ok, _one_ time, but I really had to get home and you were being ridiculous. Like now.”

“It’s not ridiculous for me to want my extremely sexy and wonderful boyfriend to stay with me another night.”

“Kuroo,” Daichi murmurs, breaking off before he says anything more.

Taking courage in both hands (figuratively since his actual hands are occupied) Kuroo says quietly, “Move in with me.”

There’s a pause and then Daichi is wrenching himself up. Kuroo yelps, his hold still strong, but the silk sheets (a birthday present from Daichi and so, so nice against bare skin) do not help him stay put on the bed. He loses the fight with gravity, sending him and Daichi to the floor in a tangle of limbs.

Kuroo groans against the throbbing in his elbows and knees but it’s quickly replaced by the throbbing of his pulse when Daichi turns the tide and captures his face between his strong, warm palms. Dark grey finds warm brown and they stare at each other before Daichi closes the distance, pressing his lips to Kuroo’s in a firm, steady, glorious pressure. Kuroo’s eyes slip closed, a gentle hum sounding from his throat.  

When they part for breath, Kuroo whispers, “Is that a yes?”

Daichi's rolls his eyes, letting out a huff then he's kissing him again, longer and deeper.

He’ll take that as a yes.


	26. As an apology

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Office AU

"Meeting at 8:00 with Iwaizumi-san to go over the final preparations for the pitch. Lunch meeting with the team to review the merger. And if Kuroo-san shows his oily mug you have my permission to drop kick him to the moon." 

Yachi had been nodding along until that last bit, her head shooting up with a jerk, eyes wide to stare at Sawamura-san, the scribble of her pen halting. Before she can formulate a reply, he sighs. "I'm sorry, Yachi-san, that was extremely unprofessional." He turns, his expression tight and guarded. "If Kuroo Tetsurou comes around, tell him I am otherwise engaged and to kindly leave the premises."  

Yachi nods dumbly, a tight knot of anxiety in her stomach and a pinch in her heart. Her mind whirls with questions of what could have happened between her boss and his boyfriend to bring him to the point of refusing to see him. Promptly following those are questions of how she is going to manage to carry out such an order. She scurries to her desk, wincing slightly when Sawamura-san’s door slams shut; he must be really angry. In all the time she’s worked here, his door has slammed only a handful of times. At least, by his hand. She takes a deep breath, willing herself to focus and not dart her eyes every thirty seconds towards the double doors as if Kuroo-san is going to appear at any time. 

If she’s lucky, he won’t come in. 

She is not lucky. The doors open and she shifts her attention to greet the newcomer only for her tongue to dry and her spine go soft. 

It’s Kuroo-san. He looks a wreck, his hair a disaster (well more so than usual) and dark circles under his red tinted eyes. Yachi’s heart aches for him, her sensitive soul wanting desperately to help but she has a job to do. Rising, her pulse pounding so loud in her ears she can barely think, she moves to block Kuroo-san’s path. She raises both hands, her voice too small and quiet, her words shaking as they exit her mouth, “I’m sorry Kuroo-san, but you’ll have to wa—um, leave. Sawamura-san isn’t available.” She winces at the fumbled delivery, sounding hollow in her own ears. 

A momentary burning anger flashes through Kuroo-san’s eyes, his voice harsh as he snaps, “Bullshit! I need to talk to him now!”  

Harsh language isn’t anything new to Yachi, but used in a professional setting it at the very least stuns her enough to allow Kuroo-san to slip around her. His long strides easily draw him a fair distance away and Yachi has to scamper to catch up. Slotting herself between him and Sawamura-san’s door, she says, still scared but more determined, “I’m sorry but you’ll have to excuse Sawamura-san. He’s given a strict order that he’s not to be disturbed.”  

Only a white lie but she can’t bring herself to admit the order is only for him. 

“And he left it to you?”  

Yachi’s gut is a swirling mass of fear and frustration but she raises her chin, refusing to give an inch. “It’s my job. More so my pleasure and honor to do it.” Her voice gains strength even as her words soften, “I don’t know what happened, Kuroo-san, but please respect his wishes and go.”  

Kuroo-san hesitates, his anger melting into despair. “Please, Yachi-san.” His voice is quiet, broken. “Please let me talk to him.” 

She shakes her head. “I can’t.” With care and gentleness, she takes his hand giving it a squeeze. “Give him the time and space he needs. Sawamura-san is fair and forgiving. He just needs a breather.” 

Kuroo-san lets out a choked sob and Yachi wishes desperately that they would just talk. After a shaky inhale Kuroo-san says, “Tell him I’m sorry. That I didn’t mean it and I’ll spend the rest of my life groveling if that’s what he needs. Just… tell him I love him and—“ 

The door opens making them both jump and turn to find Sawamura-san standing in the threshold of his office. 

“Dai…” Kuroo-san barely breathes the name out. 

“Tetsu…” Then Sawamura-san is moving, closing the distance and taking the space Yachi vacated, wrapping his arms around the taller man’s neck. 

“I’m sorry Dai. I’m so, so sorry.” Kuroo-san’s voice is muffled against Sawamura-san’s neck, and Yachi blushes to hear him peppering kisses to his skin between his words. 

“I’m still angry but I forgive you, idiot.” 

The tension in Yachi’s chest releases, her eyes pooling with tears at the wealth of emotions on display.  

Sawamura-san withdraws enough to speak to her over his shoulder. “Cancel my meetings, Yacchan, I’ll be back tomorrow.” 

Yachi’s cheeks grow warm but she nods, managing a smile as the reunited couple link hands and enter the elevator. Just as the doors are about to close, she catches sight of their lips meeting and she smiles.  


	27. As a suggestion

A long hard week is at its end as Daichi flops face first onto the couch. He lets out a low groan, as though the weight of the world were on his back. In some ways, he supposes, it is. Well, parts of it. Young parts with brilliant minds in heads he wants to shake, to get them out of themselves and into... more.

He hates waxing poetic.

Teaching is a bitch sometimes and right now all he wants is a stiff drink, maybe a burger or pizza to soak up the alcohol, and a quiet night in. 

From the hall he hears steps approach but doesn’t get up, barely grunts a hello, he’s that tired.  

Then Kuroo drapes himself over Daichi like the cat he likes to think he is and kisses the back of his neck. It’s soft and sweet, a welcome home as only Kuroo can give. But then there’s a tease of tongue and a nip of teeth and Daichi groans again; he’ll have a night in, it seems, but it won’t be very quiet.  

He can’t say he’s disappointed.  


	28. As a lie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basically... this is The Wedding Date Movie AU. Which I may or may not write more of depending on interest level lol.

“So, when you gonna come clean?”  

Kuroo nearly drops his drink at the closeness of Daishou’s voice. He glares at him, the sneaky snake. “About what?”  

A chorus of loud laughter erupts drawing their attention to the pool table. Daichi’s there, a cue in hand and a warm smile on his face that makes Kuroo’s insides go all gooey. 

“About him. There’s no way you managed to land a guy like that.” Kuroo’s glare returns to Daishou as he goes on, “So. Which is it? Friend pretending? Roommate who owes you for not doing the dishes? Paid escort?” 

“Fuck you,” Kuroo snaps. As if coming to this wedding wasn’t hard enough, his darling cousin’s fiancée is, as usual, giving him shit and being an asshole. Being around family is hard enough and the fact this asshat is soon to be included in that lot makes it worse. 

“You wish, though Mika wouldn’t hesitate to murder you if you try.” 

Before Kuroo can express his horror, another voice speaks, low and rumbling in his ear, “What’s this? I leave you alone for five minutes and you’re already getting hit on?” Kuroo turns his head to deny it but his words meld together into a low moan as Daichi slots their lips together. Kuroo’s stomach flips, flops then drops to his feet as Daichi’s tongue teases the line of his mouth, his large palm cupping the side of his face, warm and solid. He smells so good, a spice he can’t name. Maybe it’s just Daichi.  

They part with a soft pop that Kuroo’s sure is 100% for Daishou’s benefit… or disgust as is more likely the case. Kuroo can only stare at Daichi’s profile, as he turns his head to smile at Daishou, though this one is less warm and more… Kuroo shivers. And for just a beautiful, heart clenching moment he lets himself believe that burning in Daichi’s eyes is really for him.  


	29. As a promise

There are times when words just won’t come. Or rather they come, but Daichi can’t get them out. They pile up, stack high and tall, deep and wide, crushing against his chest, a burning weight of emotions he can’t articulate to save his life. A frustrating thing, really, for someone who (or so he’s been told) knows just what to say and how to say it.

But it’s one thing to encourage a teammate or comfort a friend and another to expose a piece of your heart and soul. It’s hard to express how much he cares. Pride taints sweet words and fear ties his tongue in knots but he knows how he feels and it’s so much it scares him sometimes, but he can’t stop.

So he shows instead, pulling Tetsurou down into his lap, all long limbs and lean muscle, sliding his hands into that unruly hair and pulling him close. Tetsurou’s breath ghosts over his lips when Daichi pauses just long enough to ask two words. “Can I?”

Tetsurou snorts, a sound that should be ugly but to Daichi’s ears is endearing. “Of course,” is always his reply.

Daichi leans up to close the gap, silently pouring all his words of love into Tetsurou’s mouth, searing them to his soul with his tongue, branding them to his heart with his quiet moans. It’s a promise unspoken, but no less true.

_With all of me, I love all of you. And I always will._


	30. As comfort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post-apocalypse AU set in a world ending winter. I have thoughts on a slice of life (good and bad) drabble series for this that may see the light of day.

Daichi watches the softly falling snow, his deep sigh momentarily fogging the glass keeping the bitter cold at bay. It’s been so long since he could watch the snow without fears mounting as high as the treacherous dunes they hiked at the beginning of the end. He shivers, memories of those dark days seeping in to chill his bones just as effectively as the blowing wind. When the world went to hell, no one expected it to be so cold.

But, at least for tonight (and until their radar says otherwise), he’ll try to enjoy the view. Try to remember the peace and sense of newness a fresh snowfall brought to his mind rather than the panic that they won’t make it. That they’ll lose more people.

His arms wrap tighter around his knees, pressing them to his chest.

“If you were cold, you could have just asked to snuggle.”

Daichi huffs again, amusement coloring his annoyance at being found. He shouldn’t be surprised. Kuroo’s always able to sniff him out. He doesn’t bother to look up, eyes tracing the fall of one flake and then another when he loses sight of the first.

Out of the corner of his eye, Daichi sees Kuroo settle near him, mimicking his position and together they watch in silence. A short silence. “Been a while, how’re you holdin’ up?”

Quietly, Daichi inhales through his nose, the expansion of his chest increasing the tension against his legs and arms. Letting it out slowly he says, “Same as always.”

“So… shitty, cold, and bored. Got it.”

Daichi fights the smile he can feel tugging at his lips. Distantly he can hear his and Kuroo’s teams catching up, voices drifting down the hall, a warm, jocular sound.

“Kids have missed each other,” Kuroo comments.

Daichi finally breaks his stare down with the snow to look at him. He can’t say he’s startled to find those dark grey eyes trained on his face. It doesn’t make it any less unnerving. But he doesn’t show it. Or tries not to. Daichi keeps some variance of a guard up constantly, even among his own team… his own family. He’s the leader, he has to be strong. Life in the wild proved quickly that the weak don’t last.

A cold touch to his cheek makes him jolt. When had Kuroo moved? Sure he’d been close but now he’s _right there_. Before Daichi can say anything Kuroo asks, “Why won’t you let me in?”

Daichi’s chest constricts, throat clogging with all the words he’s pushed down. They scramble from his gut only to trip on his tongue. Kuroo’s eyes are still on him, focused. But when Daichi lets himself really look, he finds answers to questions he’s been too afraid to ask.

He licks his lips, suppressing a shiver when Kuroo’s warm breath ghosts over them. Barely perceptible, he nods. But instead of forward, Kuroo withdrawals, hand moving from Daichi’s cheek to his hand, pulling him up and into his arms.

A new warmth floods over Daichi as he relaxes into the embrace, his own a bit feeble. That is until Kuroo’s presses his lips gently to his temple, whispering against his skin, “I’ll take care of you.”

Daichi clutches him then, face burying into the plush of his jacket. His body trembles. He’s not sure if it’s fear, fatigue or relief that shakes his bones. Maybe it’s all three. Maybe it’s more than he even realizes.

“Please,” and his voice is hoarse, heavy and dry.

It’s all he has to say. Kuroo nods, kisses his cheek and takes his hand again, leading him to his guest room.

 


	31. After a small rejection

Daichi sits curled in the corner of the couch, a pout on his lips so cute Kuroo can’t help but smile. “Sweetheart, it’s not the end of the world,” he says, sitting close but not touching, not yet.

“Easy for you to say that. She loves you.” Daichi draws his knees tighter to his chest. “With me it’s crying and whimpers. Like… like I’m going to beat her or something.” Then, quieter, his face so sad Kuroo’s heart aches a little despite how silly this all is, Daichi adds, “She wasn’t like this before we brought her home.” 

Kuroo makes sympathetic noises, looking to the little fluff ball curled in her bed. Her dark eyes meet his, imploring, as though she wishes just as much as he that they could understand each other.

Letting out a long breath, Kuroo gently touches Daichi’s shoulder. “You know what the shelter said. It can take time for them to adjust.”

“But why me?” Daichi insists, turning to face him.

Kuroo shifts, lying down on his back and after a second, Daichi moves as well, settling on top of him. Wrapping his arms around Daichi’s back and dropping a kiss to the top of his head, Kuroo says, “I don’t know love. What I do know, is that if anyone can win her over, it’s you. Who knows? Maybe she caught the scent of something that scared her while you were in view. Maybe when you had to yell at Santo-san’s ex-boyfriend to get the hell out it scared her. It could be anything. You just have to give her time.” He gives another kiss, a longer one and inhales the sweet scent of Daichi’s shampoo. “You wrangled a murder of unrulely crows, you can wait for one small pup.”

Daichi’s warm breath huffs in the crook of Kuroo’s neck. “I know, it just… hurts.”

Kuroo holds back his chuckle, stroking Daichi’s hair until he falls asleep. He’s almost asleep as well when the sound of clicking nails makes his ears perk up. He smiles as a wet nose presses  into the palm of his hand where it rests on the floor. Scooping up the fluffy monster up, he deposits her on Daichi’s back. “See, silly girl? He’s safe.”

She tilts her head at him, looks down at Daichi, then back up again. Seemingly decided, she curls up on his back, closes her eyes and promptly begins to snore. Daichi follows soon after and Kuroo bemoans there’s no one around to take a picture of them.  


	32. To wake up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prince Kuroo provokes the wrong person and ends up in a deep slumber. Unable to wake him by means of his own magic, Kenma seeks help from the neighboring kingdoms and their various gifts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fantasy/Fairy Tail AU
> 
> This one got away from me, in the form of 3,152 words, lol. But I had a lot of fun with it, so I hope a longer piece in this series is enjoyed.

Yaku really shouldn’t be surprised. He knew the day would come when Kuroo would run his mouth to the wrong witch or warlock or whatever magical being he managed to piss off. He just didn’t seem to understand that not everyone (rather very few in Yaku’s opinion) appreciated Kuroo’s sense of humor. If you could even call it that. And really, if he were to be critical of anyone it should be the rather poorly named ‘guards’ whose duty it was to keep this sort of thing from happening.

Then again, he can’t really blame Lev and Inuoka. Kuroo can be intensely irritating on a good day and when determined to be a menace, well, there was just no helping it some days.

But now was not the time to dither over the could and should haves. They had a prince to wake up and no idea how to do it. It had already been nearly a week with Kenma working nearly round the clock pouring over every spell book and formula he could find.

“We need help, maybe Akaashi will have an idea,” Kenma suggested, blowing dust off yet another book. “This is the last of my curse resources.”

Yaku nodded, giving the order for Lev and Inuoka to ride to Fukurodani with the request that their mage return post haste to assist if he were able. He returned with them by nightfall, unsurprisingly with his prince by his side.

“Tetsurou was cursed?” Bokuto exclaimed as he burst into the bedchamber.

“Well if that didn’t wake him up, he really must be,” Kai remarked.

“You think I’ve just been playing games here?” Kenma asked with a scowl.

Kai put his hands up, eager to not earn the ire of the mage and end up as Kuroo had.

“Here!” Bokuto exclaimed thrusting something under Kenma’s nose that made him wince then sneeze.

“What _is_ that?” he asked, nose scrunched against another sneeze.

Akaashi let out a long-suffering sigh. “Bokuto-san is convinced a feather from one of our owls will do the trick.”

“Isamou isn’t just any owl, he’s a _majestic_ . I mean, mage is in the word so he must have _some_ magic right?”

“One, no it’s not and two, that isn’t how magic works. Besides, you really believe I would not have told you if he were a magical familiar?”

“Maybe, maybe not." Bokuto shrugged. "Either way, it’s worth a shot!”

“Just let him,” Kenma sighed, rubbing his temples.

Akaashi frowned deeper but nodded and the prince hurried to his friend’s side. First, he tried tickling his feet with the feather but that merely resulted in his skin breaking out in hives. Before anyone could stop him, Bokuto tried under Kuroo’s nose which resulted in a sneeze fest that, under ordinary circumstances, would have definitely woken him up, no doubt with a bad temper. But as it turned out, the curse was stronger than “magical” owl feathers and Kuroo remained as deeply asleep as before.

“Now _that_ debacle is over,” Akaashi said, “let me see if there’s anything I have that will help.” He spent the next few hours pouring over his own tomes, comparing notes with Kenma and trying various potions, all to no avail.

“Now what?” Kai asked, looking between the two mages.

They looked at one another and Akaashi said, “We could try Oikawa-san. They do have the blessed tree of Seijoh.”

Kenma nodded. It was a stretch but they didn’t have any more options currently at their disposal. Isamu was put to one of his actual tasks of messenger and flew to the neighboring kingdom. It took a day and a half, before word arrived alerting Yaku that Prince Oikawa and Sir Iwaizumi would be arriving in a few days time.

Upon their arrival, Prince Oikawa laughed, “So where is the fool?”

Sir Iwaizumi, the only knight in all the realms bold enough to physically accost his highness, smacked the back of his head. “Just get on with it!”

Pouting, Oikawa allowed himself to be led by Yaku to Kuroo’s chambers. Walking to the bedside, blessed tree branch in hand, he stared down at the sleeping Nekoma prince and promptly smacked its leaves against Kuroo’s face.

“Hey! That’s not how that works, idiot!” Iwaizumi snapped, snatching the branch away.

Oikawa sniggered. “I just wanted to make sure he wasn’t faking it.”

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes as he handed the branch to Kenma. “Here, I should have just given it to you, to begin with.”

Kenma graced him with a small smile and a quiet ‘thank you’ as he took the precious commodity to his workbench that had been moved from the cellar for ease of use (and so Lev wouldn’t drop four hours worth of work again). Using a small blade, he carefully stripped the bark exposing the soft center and squeezed the sap into a container. Handing the bark to Akaashi, he said, “Can you powderize this?”

Akaashi nodded, heading to the end of the bench. After a few murmured words, flecks of fire danced from his fingertips, a controlled burn that turned the bark to ash in a bowl which he returned to Kenma.

Kenma mixed the sap in, his quiet incantation causing the contents to momentarily bathe the room in a bright green glow before it winked out.

“Ok, it’s ready,” Kenma confirmed. He walked to the bedside, placed his thumb in the ash and sap mixture, and wiped two thick globs of it over Kuroo’s eyes. Stepping back, he let out a long breath of air. “Now we wait and see.”

“For how long?” Oikawa asked

Kenma shrugged.

After a full day of reapplying and the only result a rather sticky faced prince, they were no closer to waking Kuroo than before. Kenma thanked the visiting princes and their companions. “If you would like to stay, you’re welcome.”

“I’m not going anywhere until I know Kuroo is ok,” Bokuto confirmed.

Oikawa sighed. “Might as well. At the very least, I’m curious how this will play out.”

As they were led to their guest chambers, Yaku asked quietly to Kenma, “Now what?”

“Now we keep searching,” Kenma replied, his voice tight. If Yaku didn’t know any better, he’d say the mage was beginning to worry.

Messengers were sent to the further kingdoms of Shiratorizawa, Johzenji and Dateko and all responded as swiftly as they were able, their respective leadership taking the task of delivering their strongest blessed or magical items themselves.

“Holy water from the springs of Shiratorizawa,” King Ushijima announced.

“Maybe just dunk his head in, can’t make it any worse,” his red-headed sorcerer suggested.

“Can we not drown our prince, thanks,” Yaku snapped.

They tried splashing it on his face instead with no result other than a wet pillow and Kuroo looking even more disheveled than usual. Even getting some down his throat proved fruitless.

“At least it washed away the ash sap syrup,” Lev murmured and for once found everyone agreeing with him.

Next came Terushima, the second eldest of his kingdom, sent by his queenly sister to help. He held up long needles, topped by shining knobs.

Yaku eyed them warily. “Your solution is to stab him?”

The ornately decorated prince gave a sideways smirk. “I wouldn’t be opposed.” He held up his hands, hastily adding to the advancing Taketora who looked ready to draw his sword, “But no, these aren’t for killing. I mean, they _can_ but that’s not their purpose, at least for today.”

Surprisingly it was he and not his traveling companion who murmured an incantation making the shining knobs glow brighter. With unexpected care and caution, he began inserting needles into Kuroo’s skin, just deep enough to hold them in place. Yaku and Lev winced at each prick but their prince never once stirred from his enchanted slumber. Finally, when Kuroo resembled a pin cushion, Terushima stepped back. “Let’s leave them for now, see if this works.”

“What did you do?” Kenma asked, curiosity dancing in his eyes. He’d never seen anything like this before and it piqued his interest.

“They’re meant to impart healing, restore muscle movement, heal cramps, stuff like that. For normal issues, I don’t have to use the spell, but desperate times…”

They all nodded.

The needles were left until evening with no effect. Terushima extracted them gently, depositing each into a sterilizing solution. “Any other ideas?” he asked, turning back to the group.

Moniwa and his successor Futakuchi stepped forward then, the former speaking in his quiet calm manner. “Dateko dragon blood,” he offered, showing a large jug to Kenma. “It’s healing properties are quite impressive, particularly when mixed with ambleberry root.”

Kenma looked doubtful making Futakuchi click his tongue. “If you don’t believe us, here.” Swiftly he pulled the dagger on his boot from its sheath, cutting his arm deep enough to get the point across. He popped the cork of the jug, dipped his fingers into the slurry within and slathered it onto his wound, hissing as it burned. Before the gathering’s eyes, the mixture sunk in, and the bleeding stopped. When it dried, he wiped away the crust, revealing his skin to be fully intact with no hint of a scar.

“That’s amazing,” Akaashi whispered, his feather-light touch ghosting over Futakuchi’s wrist.

“But if it hardens, how will that not kill Kuroo?” Kenma asked.

Moniwa sighed. He was clearly used to Futakuchi’s dramatic demonstrations but they still annoyed him. “For a wound, the blood alone is fine, as long as it’s not too deep. The ambleberry root is what keeps the blood from hardening, so it’s safe.”

Kenma nodded. What choice did he have but to trust them? And Moniwa was a good, kind king. If he said it was ok, Kenma would go along with it.

“Don’t worry,” Moniwa said with a smile, moving to the workbench. He drew another flask and poured what Kenma assumed was the ambleberry root into the blood and mixed. There was an odor of deep iron and soot mixed with something he couldn’t identify. Sweet, almost sickly so. Perhaps the ambleberry root or perhaps the result of the mixture.

After five minutes, Moniwa pulled from his bag an odd instrument, the likes of which Kenma had never seen. It appeared to have a needle attached to a glass container as well as a… handle? He squinted, watching carefully as Moniwa dipped the end of the needle into the blood-root mix. His eyes widened as the handle was pulled back and the less viscous but still thick liquid filled the container.  

Futakuchi stood on Moniwa’s other side, his sharp gaze fixed on the proceedings and Kenma realized with a start that Moniwa was using this as a teaching exercise as well. He admired him for taking advantage of a unique situation in order to prepare the man who would eventually take his place as leader.

When the container was full, Moniwa stepped carefully to the bedside, handing the apparatus to Futakuchi. Gently Moniwa turned Kuroo’s arm, feeling along over his veins. “Here,” he said, pressing harder into the crook of Kuroo’s elbow. He glanced at Futakuchi. “See this line? This is the best place if you can manage it. If not,” he shifted his hold, touching close to Kuroo’s wrist, “this is the next best.”

Futakuchi merely nodded and when Moniwa gave the signal to exchange, took over holding the spot as Moniwa took back the needle. “Ready?” he asked. At a nod from his successor, Moniwa inserted the needle into Kuroo’s vein and pushed the plunger. Kenma watched in fascination as Kuroo’s veins turned from greenish blue to dark purple. He was able to follow the flow of the blood-root until it disappeared under his clothing.

After a few minutes, Kuroo’s body gave a great shuddering jerk that made them all jump. Kenma rushed to his side, hand gripping that of his leader and best friend. “Kuroo? Kuroo, are you ok?”

But there was no response. The tremors ceased and his body fell lax but he was still breathing and looked none the worse for wear.

“I’m sorry,” Moniwa said, defeat in his tone. “I really thought it would work.”

“Are you sure he’s ok? That was… alarming,” Kai commented.

“He’s fine,” Futakuchi snapped, “didn’t Moniwa-san explain?”

“Futakuchi, enough!” Moniwa turned his attention to the captain of the guard. “I’ll admit, the reaction was not unexpected. That the solution is a bit… aggressive. Especially if you’re not used to it. What I did not expect was for him to sleep through it. Whatever this is, it’s deep magic.”

Kenma had known that for a while but to have it confirmed now by so many failures, he was really starting to worry. Truthfully, he was past the point of worry, nearing more to panic but he couldn’t let it show. They needed to find a solution and letting his mind spiral out of control, to let fear overtake him… that was not permitted.

“Who else can we ask for help? There are no more kingdoms, at least, none we’re aligned with,” Yaku said.

Silence overtook the room until Bokuto spoke, the subdued nature of his voice indicative to the seriousness of their plight. “There’s Karasuno.”

Oikawa sniffed indignantly. “They’re barely a fiefdom. Reckless hooligans.”

“You’re just bitter because they defeated you at the jousting tournament last summer,” Futakuchi snipped.

“Oh yeah? And who trounced _you_ at the wall climb? Oh, that’s right, Karasuno.”

“True as those instances are, they have nothing to do with the plight at hand. The heart of the matter is, Karasuno has no magic item, no gift, nothing to even bring,” Ushijima put in.

“Their lord.”

All eyes fell to Kenma, his simple declaration drawing a hush to the room.

“What does he have to do with it?” Iwaizumi asked, confused.

Kenma looked at the bed, his eyes seeming to ask a silent plea of forgiveness before he spoke again. “Kuroo and the lord of Karasuno... they’re… close.” He paused to let the significance of his words sink in before continuing on, “Even if he has nothing to _bring,_ Idon’t doubt Sawamura will move heaven and earth to save him.”

“Then why didn’t you just _start_ with him?” Oikawa asked exasperated.

Kenma met his gaze. “I didn’t want to start a war. Sawamura can be… frightening when those he cares about… those he _loves_ … are in danger. You’ve only seen him in times of peace. Where the stakes were gloating and maybe a bit of gold or a trophy. We,” he glanced to his comrades, “have seen him as a warrior. Thankfully on our side but still...”

He paused then said to Inuoka, Tora, and Kai, “Make haste to Karasuno. Bring Sawamura back as soon as you can.”

They nodded, prepared and left.

Watching them disappear into the darkness, Moniwa asked quietly, “Is Sawamura really that formidable?”

Kenma nodded. “They all are. Be glad they are content with a small section of land and the freedom to run it as they please.”

Dawn the next morning brought the blare of trumpets announcing the return of Nekoma’s convoy but it was Sawamura on his midnight steed leading the way. Even from his perch above the castle gate, Kenma could see the steel in his eyes, the tight clench of his powerful jaw. He was ready for a fight if need be.

Kenma hurried down to meet him, saying as he dismounted, “Thank you for coming so promptly.” He bowed.

Sawamura replied curtly, “I fail to see why you are only just sending for me _now,_ Kenma-san.”

Kenma met his eyes, working to stay calm though he wanted to cower against the heat of his gaze. Not many people could make him, one of the most powerful mages in the land, want to slink into the shadows so quickly. “My apologies, I… thought we could handle it.” His voice was quiet but firm.

A tense silence followed in which Sawamura said no more before he swept past Kenma, marching to Kuroo’s chambers without pause in his stride. Kenma spun on his heel to follow, not missing the exhale of breath from his comrades.

By the time he reached the room, Sawamura was already at the bedside. Kenma watched him, watched the way his hard expression melted to concern, to fondness… to love. It was beautiful, really, the way his large hand—once stained with the blood of enemies past—touched so gently the face of the man he adored.

“You silly idiot,” Sawamura whispered, the barest hint of amusement in his tone and Kenma wondered if it was more for Kuroo’s benefit in case he could hear them. “I’ll get you out of this, I promise.” He leaned down, heedless of the audience, and pressed his lips to Kuroo’s. 

Standing upright, he looked at Kenma, but as he opened his mouth to speak a sound from the bed drew their attention back down. Kuroo was beginning to stir, a low moan rattling out of his throat.

Simultaneously, Sawamura and Kenma each took one of Kuroo’s hands, squeezing as they watched Kuroo’s eyes first shift behind his lids and then flutter open.

No one moved, scarcely breathed as he lay blinking up at the ceiling. Finally, his gaze shifted to Sawamura, his eyes widening in surprise. “My love… what—” but his words were cut off by the dryness of his throat, a cough overtaking him.

The room flew into motion then.

Sawamura leaned down to press a hand to his lover’s back, pushing him up to a seated position as slowly as he could so as not to hurt his stiff muscles any more than could be helped. Kenma hurried to shift the pillows so he could be comfortable and Kai brought a jug of water, handing it to Sawamura.

“Slowly,” Sawamura said, setting the rim to Kuroo’s lips and tilting, helping him to drink. When he’d had his fill, he nodded, settling back into the pillows.

“What… what happened?” he asked, looking dumbfounded at the lot of them.

“You were cursed! How the hell did Sawamura wake you up!” Oikawa exclaimed.

“Kuroo you’re awake!” Bokuto burst into the room, hurrying towards the bed but Sawamura’s hand on his chest stopped his progression.

“Was that… did he…” Yaku was trying to piece together what he’d just witnessed when Tendou’s loud, obnoxious laughter filled the room.

“Kenma-san wasn’t kidding when he said we just needed Karasuno’s lord,” he giggled, doubling over and clutching his stomach. “A kiss! A... kiss… haha!”

And slowly the room filled with laughter; some from relief, some from joy and still more from the ridiculousness of the situation.

Kenma smiled softly watching his prince’s cheeks color pink, watched the joy and relief on his comrades' faces, watched Sawamura lean in and kiss Kuroo again, just because he could.

_True love conquered all, huh?_

Well, Kenma could live with that.


	33. Forcefully

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by Lost Girl 
> 
> Incubus Daichi and Werepanther Kuroo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written while listening to Howl - Florence + The Machine

Daichi stumbles through the hall, blood trickling from the cut on his brow. He swipes his tongue, gathering the drop that hits the corner of his mouth and grimaces against the taste of iron. How vampires can stand the stuff, he doesn’t know. He pauses, leaning against the wall, his vision hazy; this isn’t good. The door he needs is so close and yet so far. Beyond its steel he can hear the thump of a fat beat; Kuroo must be working out. 

That’s good, means he’ll be too tired to finish the ass whooping the enemy started. Daichi shouldn’t be here really, there are others with less… baggage. But this is the closest haven and if he’d tried to go further, Daichi is sure he’d have collapsed. Maybe even succumbed to his wounds.

How embarrassing. 

Drawing a long breath and hissing in pain against the expansion of his chest (he probably has more broken ribs than not) he pushes off the wall. He’s almost there, just a few more steps. Reaching the door, he raises his fist and pounds against it; his knuckles are too trashed to use. That and the music is loud; it’s questionable whether he’ll be heard. 

The door opens revealing a shirtless, sweaty werepanther and Daichi adds thirsty to his list of ailments. It was stupid, so, so stupid coming here of all places. 

Kuroo takes in the sight Daichi makes, a rather fucked up one he’s sure, and scowls. “What the hell happened to you?” he asks. 

“What do you think?” Daichi retorts, then coughs, spittals of blood flinging from his lips, hitting Kuroo’s skin. Daichi wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, murmuring an apology. Kuroo doesn’t react beyond stepping back to let him in; so Daichi isn’t the only one making stupid decisions today. Then again, he knew when he came here that Kuroo wouldn’t turn him away. 

Daichi trips over the threshold, no longer able to remain standing under his own power and one of two things are going to happen in the next ten seconds: he’ll be on the floor or in Kuroo’s arms. 

Warm limbs catch him effortlessly; he really should learn not to doubt him so much. 

“Fuck, Sawamura, they really did a number on you,” he mutters, reaching down to scoop Daichi fully into his arms. Daichi’s heart skips a beat it can’t afford at the tenderness he shows, working to be mindful of any unseen injuries. He needn’t bother, Daichi’s whole body is one giant bruise at this point. Kuroo walks towards the bedroom, a deep growl rumbling in his chest. “You should have taken me with you.”  

“Not your concern, remember?” Daichi snips, though his voice is dull and sleepy. 

“I still would have helped!” 

Daichi closes his eyes, letting out a deep sigh. He’s so tired. His body feels heavy and he lets himself relax, leaning more into Kuroo’s hold. Twisted history aside, right now, in this moment, he feels safer than he has in days. Why did they break up again? Oh… right… Daichi’s quest for answers. Answers Kuroo doesn’t understand him needing. A constant source of fights and strain. And yet, he knows, knows as sure as the sun will rise tomorrow, that Kuroo would have gone with him if he asked. Which is why Daichi hadn’t. Because this is his journey, his fight, his incessant need to  _know_. 

His eyes fly open when he feels the dip of Kuroo’s bed and the absence of his warmth as he lays him down. Without thought, Daichi’s fingers dig into his biceps, trying to keep him close. Their eyes meet and instantly Daichi is lost in muted gold. He misses their glow. Not the blazing burn when Kuroo’s angry or fighting for his (for their) lives; though that is quite a nice look as well. No, he misses most the molten liquid they morph into when he’s with Daichi; or at least how he was at the beginning. Before the war, before the deaths, before the questions and the seeking of answers. 

But now as he stares, that glow is coming in again. Or maybe it’s just a reflection of the sunset beams through the window. He tries to rise, gasping out in pain when his abs constrict. 

“Stay down, stupid,” Kuroo admonishes, pushing gently to get Daichi to lie down. Instead of moving away this time, Kuroo gingerly moves down, settling over Daichi, caging him in, keeping him down… staying close. His head dips, lips barely above Daichi’s and he whispers, “You need healing, let me help.” 

Daichi swallows, shuddering against the pain of his body but it’s nothing compared to the pain in his heart. “I shouldn’t have come here,” he says. 

Kuroo’s brow furrows. “Why not?” 

Daichi licks his lips. “You know why. This… yes, I need healing but I shouldn’t have come to you.”

“And yet, here you are.” Kuroo’s voice is soft, pain and exasperation interweaved in his tone. 

Daichi shuts his eyes at the gentle caress of Kuroo’s fingers against his cheek. He draws a deep breath, sighing out, “But it’s not fair to you. I should have called someone, Matsukawa, maybe Bo—”

His words morph into a moan, half pain, half pleasure, as Kuroo’s mouth covers his. Kuroo has always been a force to be reckoned with, and in the bedroom, he’s no different. Daichi doesn’t need to be half-dead for him to dominate him, but it helps. Not that Daichi could fight him off now. Not that he ever  _would_. 

Instinct takes over, though Daichi isn’t sure if it’s survival or lust that is leading the way as his fingers thread through Kuroo’s unruly hair, gripping tightly and pulling just how he likes. Already Daichi can feel his wounds starting to seal. There isn’t much to be done about the blood loss, he may even need a transfusion, but as Kuroo literally pours himself, his essence and strength, into Daichi through his kiss, Daichi’s body begins to mend. 

He doesn’t want to take too much but he  _needs_. As though reading his mind Kuroo parts them just long enough to pant out, “Take what you need, I can handle it.” 

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Daichi groans. 

“Likewise, you know how difficult it is not to grind down on you?” Kuroo asks, opting to use Daichi’s distraction as a means to press into the crook of his neck, lapping at the skin there. Daichi moans, gripping Kuroo’s back which only spurs him on, teeth nipping. 

“Careful, I have enough scars,” Daichi gasps. 

“None from me, not for a while now,” Kuroo growls. He bites harder, licking the indentations. “Too long,” he murmurs. 

“Kuroo… we shouldn’t….” Daichi’s voice should be stronger, but it’s weak and breathy.

“You’ve done enough fighting today, Daichi,” Kuroo says before capturing his mouth again, tongue sliding against Daichi’s with the force of dualist. 

Daichi can feel Kuroo’s erection where it strains against his workout pants, unconsciously bucking up against it.  

“Fuck,” Kuroo moans against Daichi’s mouth. 

“I don’t need that much.”

“I need _you_.”

They pause at his admission, eyes meeting again. Daichi moves both hands to cup his face. “Tetsu,” he whispers, unable to keep the remorse from his voice. 

Kuroo presses him into the mattress. “You ok?” he asks between soft kisses to Daichi’s cheeks. Daichi knows he can see for himself he is, the swelling of his eye has ceased and the scratches on his cheeks are gone. But still, it’s sweet of him to ask. 

“I’m ok, now,” he confirms. 

“Stay with me tonight, let me take care of you.” 

“I just said I was ok.” 

Kuroo lets out an exasperated sigh. “You know what I mean, Daichi.” 

And Daichi does know… knows all too well. And it’s exactly why he can’t stay. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry to end on a sad note but I have plans to reconcile them in a future kiss! So stay tuned!
> 
> Kudos and feedback are profoundly appreciated, thank you for reading!


	34. Because They're Running Out of Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time stops for no one, don't let a chance pass you by.

Sawamura leaned against the slope of the hill, head tilted back looking at the sky. Despite the warmth of the night, Kuroo shivered. It didn't matter that he was only in a t-shirt and shorts, that he probably still smelled like the sweat of what felt like hundreds of games; he was beautiful. His head turned, cocked to one side, an inviting smile on his face.

"Nice to know even in the big city you can still see the moon," he said. The unspoken invitation hung in the air between them and Kuroo forced his legs to move. He plopped heavily next to him, joining in his observance of the heavens.  

After a few minutes of silence, Sawamura let out a long sigh. "You're never going to get a better opportunity, you know." Kuroo's head whipped to face him, a lump forming in his throat when their eyes met. Sawamura tilted his head again, leaning forward just enough for his intention to be clear. "Or would you prefer I be the one to land lips first on you?"  

Kuroo swallowed once. Twice. On the third try with no success to unclog his throat, he merely nodded.  

Sawamura huffed, amusement in his warm brown eyes but there was also affection. And want. He shifted closer, cupping Kuroo's face. "Last chance to back out," he whispered, his musky scent filling Kuroo's nose and melting his brain. Kuroo moved forward without thought, slotting their lips together and felt the jolt of Sawamura's surprise that he'd finally kissed him.  

And just like that, the caterwauls began as teammates and opponents swarmed from the cafeteria. Sawamura chuckled, nuzzling his nose against Kuroo's. "Just in time," he murmured, landing another quick peck.  


	35. Because The World is Ending

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tetsurou thinks they've sacrificed enough, but Daichi just won't quit

“Can you, for once, not do the thing?” 

“And what ‘thing’ would that be? I do a lot of things, you know.” 

A deep rumble from above shakes the ceiling, dirt particles and pebbles clicking to the ground. Kuroo sighs. “The thing where you unnecessarily risk your life.” 

Daichi turns then, a soft smile incongruous to the situation on his lips. A few steps has him by the bed where Kuroo lies helpless and he speaks before Daichi can. “Or at least wait another day. I swear Saeko’s near to a breakthrough.” 

He tries his winning smile, one that exudes confidence even when his insides are twisted. It works on the general populous, but not on the man Kuroo’s spent six years as a fellow hero and four years as a lover with.  

Daichi shakes his head. “Even if she is, I can’t risk being distracted.” He reaches forward, brushing Kuroo’s fringe aside. “Hard to look away from this handsome face.” 

Kuroo grabs his hand, squeezing hard. “Don’t. Don’t be kind. Call me ugly or bed head or anything just… don’t say things that mean you think they’re the last things you’ll ever say to me.” Daichi’s not the only one who knows his partner through and through. 

Daichi sighs, leaning his forehead against Kuroo’s. An explosion followed by screaming reaches them. “I have to go, Tetsu. You know that.” Daichi pulls back to look at him, another smile on his face and it breaks Kuroo’s heart because he  _knows_  that one. “It’s only the end of the world, I’ll be home before dinner.” 

“Daichi. Don’t. Please don’t go. You… you can’t stop it, not this time.” Kuroo clutches with both hands, fingernails digging into Daichi’s face that is so achingly handsome it's beautiful, even smudged with dirt and blood. “Stay with me. Be selfish for once.” 

His eyes close and for just a heartbeat Kuroo thinks his pleas worked but then his head shakes. “As long as there’s a chance, I have to go.” 

“Who says?” Kuroo knows he’s wasting precious time keeping him here but he can’t let go. 

“I say so.” Daichi leans in, pressing his lips to Kuroo’s forehead. “You know me, Tetsu, as long as there’s something I can do—“ 

“—I can’t stop from doing it,” Kuroo finishes. He’s crying openly now, unable to hold it back any longer.  

He tugs Daichi down, slotting their lips together. It isn’t fervent or messy, just steady pressure. Daichi’s the first to draw back but Kuroo whispers, “One more.”  

He obliges, threading his fingers through Kuroo’s hair. 

They part again. “One more,” Kuroo demands and gets it.  

“One more,” he says again, heedless of the tremble in the bunker.  

“Last one,” Daichi replies. 

Kuroo stops, pressing his hand over Daichi’s mouth and their eyes meet. “You owe me one more, mister.” Gently he pushes Daichi back. They’re both crying now, silent tears rolling down their cheeks. 

“Dai-san.” Drawing his mask over his face, Daichi turns to look at the newcomer. “It’s time.” 

Daichi nods, then looks back at Kuroo. “Be seeing you,” he says with a smile and then he’s gone.  


	36. Because the World is Saved

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daichi did the thing. It took more away from him, but at least he's still here in Tetsurou's arms and at the end of the day (not the world thanks to Daichi) that's all that matters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of the previous chapter

Kuroo walks slowly to the makeshift recovery ward, his gait unsteady but at least he’s on his feet. Saeko really is a miracle worker. He’s exceedingly grateful she made it through the Worst Night Ever ™.  

Reaching the correct room, he enters as quietly as his new apparatus will let him but he’s not surprised to see Daichi awake. He’s propped up on a mound of pillows, staring out the window, but he may as well be in the bunker for all that he can see. They warned Kuroo so he wouldn’t be shocked and Saeko assured him she could help.  

Daichi turns his head as Kuroo makes his way to the bed and smiles. “Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” 

Staring into milky white, Kuroo wants to laugh, cry and scream all at the same time. A part of him is scared to make a sound, fearful this is just a dream waiting to shift into a nightmare. 

Daichi’s expression softens, his eyes amazingly just as expressive without sight. He extends his hand, just a little off Kuroo’s position and he wonders how he knows where he is. 

Tentatively Kuroo touches his hand to let him know he’s there before grasping more firmly. That’s when the tears start. He sniffles then chokes then sobs.  

“Tetsu…” Daichi’s voice is soft and warm and  _here_  and it’s just so much. Kuroo manages to sit on the bed but Daichi tugs insistently. “I need you in my arms.” 

“I’m in my rig.” 

“So? Take it off.” 

Kuroo huffs. “I can’t move my legs without it yet.” 

Daichi touches his face, his eyes fixed on his face and for a moment Kuroo forgets he can’t see. “I can still lift you up.” 

“Oh no ya don’t,” Saeko says as she enters the room. Daichi has the sense to look abashed. “You’re on  _bed rest_  moron.” She whacks the top of his head with her clipboard. Looking at Kuroo she adds, “Here, lemme help ya.” Deftly she unhooks him, helping to guide his still paralyzed limbs as Daichi slides over to make room.  

They wrap their arms around each other, Kuroo’s head pillowed on Daichi’s broad chest. He squeezes his eyes shut, tearing up at the sound of Daichi’s heartbeat in his ear.  

“Pro tip: when harnessing world-saving level powers, wear protective eye gear. Or just close your eyes.” 

Kuroo splutters into wet laughter, wiping his eyes and smacking Daichi’s chest that rumbles with chuckles. 

Saeko snorts, still checking his stats. “Ok funny man, I’m 'bout ready to put the finishing touches on your new peepers. Any special requests?” 

Daichi shrugs then gives a squeeze to the man in his arms. “Whatcha think? Baby blues? Seeing red? Maybe green… I do like green. Oh! Maybe an animal look, like snake slits or cat eyes, though that would be more suited for you—“ 

“Brown.”  

Silence falls in the room as Kuroo shifts up on his elbow, looking down at Daichi’s face which he cups, his thumb tracing gently under one blank, white eye. “Soft brown, warm and soothing,” he says softly. 

Daichi huffs, “Spoil sap.” 

“That’s not even a thing.” 

“It’s a thing I just made up and there’s only one in the world and he’s all mine.” 

“Ugh, you cannot call  _him_  a sap and say things like that, Dai-san.” 

Kuroo laughs brightly then leans closer to Daichi’s face. “I’m gonna kiss my boyfriend like he just saved the world so you may want to—“ 

“I’m gone!” Saeko laughs, making a hasty exit. 

Daichi chuckles, reaching his hand up to lace his fingers through Kuroo’s hair. “I did owe you one, didn’t I?” 

“Yep, and you’re gonna pay me back with interest. Punishment for shaving at least ten years off my life pulling that stunt.” 

“Shut up.” 

Kuroo laughs again, but it’s cut off in a low, pleased hum as Daichi makes  _very_  good on his debt. 


	37. Out of Lust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kuroo isn't sure what world he stumbled into, but he definitely doesn't want to leave, not when this one has Daichi in leather and lipstick.

Kuroo has to be dreaming. That’s the only explanation his scrambled neurons can come up with because that’s _not_ Sawamura Daichi sauntering (actually sauntering!) across the room stuffed with drunk costume-clad university students. 

There’s no way Sawamura Daichi would be caught dead with only black fishnet mesh covering his impressive pecs. That he’d walk out of the house with pants that look spray-painted on. That he’d wear boots Kuroo would gladly want to stomp over him.  

Kuroo startles from his thoughts at the touch to his chest, his eyes wide as he takes in Sawamura up close. The shorter man looks up at him through dark, thick lashes and holy fuck his lips… his lips are drenched in black. He holds Kuroo’s transfixed gaze so tightly Kuroo wonders if he’s under a spell.  

That’s it. Magic is real and someone has conjured a very cruel illusion. It’s inconceivable Sawamura would allow anyone near him with makeup thus the vision he makes is just that; a vision. A manifestation of a fantasy Kuroo didn’t even know he had until this moment.  

Plus, as far as Kuroo knows, Sawamura isn’t anywhere near Tokyo, let alone standing nearly pressed against him in a sea of writhing debauchery.  

“What’s the matter Kuroo? Cat got your tongue?” 

The words glide out of 'not-Sawamura' like honey from velvet lips and it sounds so much like him and yet so different. Then hand on his chest slides up, rough calluses on the tips of not-Sawamura’s fingers leaving burning trails over Kuroo’s exposed skin and he’s starting to second guess himself.  

“Sawamura?” he manages to croak and the shorter male looks amused, a deep chuckle rumbling out into the barely existing space between them 

Just what the hell is going on here?  

“It’s no fun being tongue-tied alone… care for a companion?” Sawamura’s eyes smolder as he asks, the smokey grey shadow and royal purple liner encasing them enhancing the impression of fire. Kuroo’s seen Sawamura’s heat before. Raging determination, burning anger, bright elation, he’s seen them all. But here, there’s a new fire. Here’s there’s longing and wanting and  _lust_. 

And it’s for him.  

Kuroo’s hands twitch against the firm muscles beneath them, his mind trying to recall when they’d even landed on Sawamura at all. But then he’s nodding and there’s the press of soft, silky,  _hot_  lips against his. There’s the slide of slick muscle in his mouth, teasing then rough and urgent. There are fingers buried in his hair and nails scraping his skull.  

There’s a moan and a grind and the tightening of limbs as they cling to one another, lost in their own world, lost in the spell.  

When they part, Kuroo’s panting. He cracks open his heavy eyelids and finds this isn’t a dream. It isn’t an illusion. It’s real. 

Then Sawamura laughs, throaty and deep and so, so pleased. He lifts his hand, thumbing over Kuroo’s mouth. “You’re a mess,” he says, pulling back to reveal a dark black smudge on his skin.  

Kuroo smiles, trailing his fingertip along the line of Sawamura’s marred lipstick. “You’re no better. You’ll have to find your makeup artist to give you a touch-up.” 

Sawamura’s eyebrow cocks up. He steps out of Kuroo’s space. He turns, bending over and giving Kuroo an eyeful of those delectably tight pants and Kuroo doesn’t bother to bite back the moan that sight elicits.  

When Sawamura straightens, it’s with a tube and compact in his hands; apparently his boots are equipped with pockets. The compact opens with a flick of his wrist and Kuroo watches transfixed as Sawamura deftly swipes more color to his mouth.  

Done applying, Sawamura’s eyes meet Kuroo’s again. “Bold of you to assume I don’t do my own work.” The snap of the compact shutting jolts Kuroo from his staring.  

Then Sawamura’s hand is in his, tugging him towards an opening, black as pitch beyond its threshold. “Let’s see what else I can make a mess of on you.”  

As the door shuts and Sawamura’s latches to him once again, Kuroo decides this is most certainly a dream; a dream, come true.  


End file.
